


How She Remembers

by Restored_Azure



Series: Apo Bela [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Future, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Hints of 2P! Hetalia, Multi, Snapped! Canada
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restored_Azure/pseuds/Restored_Azure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Main story of this series. All other stories are spin-off prequels.</p><p>History has been altered by what can only be called as 'The Disaster'. Amidst the chaos, an empire arises, killing off a few nations, enslaving many. Belarus and the Liberator movement try desperately to bring the world back to normal, away from the Maple Empire. Unfortunately, she hears something that stokes her old obsession and she finds herself derailing. (Apocalypse A.U)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Follow the Silver Haired Alice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-serious fanfiction where Canada goes mad and takes over the world. Nothing is meant to represent real events etc. 
> 
> Other things: Belarus and Australia have an established 'romantic' relationship. However, I tend to write with a focus on plot rather than pairings so don't expect too much. There is also going to be a bit of RusAme in here, as well as Red Velvet Pancakes. 
> 
> Check ahead to the earlier parts of this series for the RusAme fics.
> 
> 2P! Hetalia characters will appear much later on...much much later on and they unfortunately only have minor roles.
> 
> Warning: I can't write accents.

_**Prologue** _

_**1\. Universes are not supposed to touch or interact with each other.** _

_**2\. Reality should not be twisted or played with.** _

_**3\. Time should not be changed.** _

_**These are the laws that were broken. By who and how? No one knows.** _

An explosion. That's all they had felt, heard, and saw. 'The Disaster'. It came from the center of the meeting room.

From that tiny point, from that one climatic boom, logic was tossed out of the window. Some nations saw other versions of themselves, polar and different. But, those too were soon gone. Reality felt twisted, stretched and corrupted; They had felt it with their bodies.

When the world seemingly settled again, everything had been drastically changed. Histories had been altered. The nations each had two sets of memories. One set was with a history that they knew to be true, the other set shouldn't be but it matched the strange world around them.

The wrong people died. Historical victories waxed and waned. Borders were redrawn. New technologies existed, some didn't make it. The world wasn't in chaos and felt the same yet...it was so _very_ different.

One personification went mad. Or perhaps, this released his darker side. Maybe, this nation had always yearned global domination and long been consumed by an obsession over power. Who really knows?

Maybe it was something else?

Still, it sure as hell wasn't the same world anymore.

Welcome to the Post-Apocalypse.

* * *

_Chapter 1_

A woman's figure hunched over a desk and talked into a futuristic recording device. Her hand held no script. Her voice steeped in a tone of desperation . There were lines underneath her eyes like she had never experienced a single good dream. Almost as if, she had seen the worst of hell, and perhaps she had. She stopped her recording, breathed and tried again.

_I hear a lot of talk in the neutral zones about being "Anti-Nation". I hear things like "it's all their fault!" and "they should've been able to stop this from happening!"_

_Let me make some things clear. No one could have prepared for this. We could not have known. Normally, we do not expect each other for murder, and when we do there's some social-political signs that tell us so. Not this time. We're personifications, not psychics._

_We still have no idea why he thirsted for blood. We only learned what his end goal was when it was already too late._

_It is not our fault._

_Many of us are already dead, if that makes you feel better. Some of us have even been erased, and you will have no memory of them. An entire history of people wiped out forever, and you do not even know it._

_We know...that the cause of the whole war was at the hands of one of our own. We know...that we were the only ones capable of stopping him before he could get to those bombs. We know...that we could have warned you all at the expense of revealing our identities-a petty price to pay. We know._

_But listen to what I am about to tell you. This is something you should know._

_There is hope! Sort of…We-a few I admit-are fighting to return the world to a better time, or at least a time before the wars. I, myself, am a nation still willing to oppose him and ready to stand guard with others who believe in our goal._

_We only ask for your help._

_That's a big request, especially coming from someone you might not want to to trust yet. It is obvious this a death wish, but let me ask you, isn't everything in this life a death wish? Do you really want to submit to the Empire? Are you willing to be part of world powered by selfishness, as people turn against each other to get to the next luxury level in his hierarchy? In that world, only the liars, the cheaters and the traitors win. The Empire's authoritarian rule must end._

_I see change and hope. If you knew who I was, that's a pretty big deal. I'm a horrible pessimist and I've long given up on chasing the impossible. I am cold and to some, I may even been heartless. Yet, I still see change and hope in the future. So please…Press the button. Join us. We await you._

Click.

She finished the recording and sighed. Scotland glanced over to her from the far side of the cabin, as she carefully pressed a few buttons on the machine. He took in a long drag from his cigarette. A large cloud of smoke lingered in the air. The man had remained silent for long enough.

" 'ey are ya done lass?"

The woman stiffened at the sound of the new voice in the room, Once she saw that it was only Scotland, she relaxed and gave him a small nod. She folded up her notes and the hologram recording device to place them back into her bag. A peek at her watch told her she had been here for a little over an hour. Damn those many takes.

She adjusted her bag strap over her shoulder and stood up to face Scotland, " I trust then, I am needed somewhere?"

"Aye, Australia's organizing the next raid and wants ya to take part. Can't say it's going to be an easy one. What have ya been doing in here anyways?"

"Recruitment Ads. Copies of this are going to placed in every neutral shelter I can get it in. Hopefully it'll convince someone to get some guts and join us. Perhaps it will get some of the nations to come out of hiding."

"Ha! Quite an optimistic view ya got there," he said. Scotland dropped his finished cigarette, crushed it under his heel. Then, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked away. "They abandoned their nation status for a reason, lass. Don't go holding ya breath when they don't come a running."

Sadly enough, she knew this was true. The suffering of the first of those that refused was enough of warning to stay away. It scared off many nations to go into hiding among the humans, even before the empire's declaration. Who could blame them though, when even her own great big brother fell.

The continents South America and Africa, were completely cut off from the world. The nations collected over there reacted surprisingly quick. They created and maintained massive border blocks, impenetrable to man and even bugs. The only news they would get from those places were rumors whispered around and made up utopian fantasies.

North and Central America were the first of his conquests, Western Europe and the Middle East soon after.

No one spoke of the Nordics. Shelling has yet to stop raining there.

East Asia though was still reported to be holding strong-even after China's death. But, there was no reaching them. Australia and India already tried.

And then there was them. The outcasts: Belarus, Australia, India and Scotland.

Each of them had suffered a saving yet torturous punishment: Exile from their own lands. Their governments cut their ties. Whether they did it out of mercy or spite, none of them would ever know. They became boundless nations, representations of nothing, slow to age but easy enough to kill. In fact, in this sense, they were exactly like the nations who had abandoned their statuses. Their names were only for keepsake.

Eventually, each of the exiled nations all wound up here, for one reason or another. Welcome to the System of Liberated States, home to many refugees and the rebels willing to protect them. Little connected pockets of uncontrolled European territory made up a majority of the system. Most of the land was a wrecked wasteland, but with a strong trading system and a few raids of empire cities, the people here survived. The outcast nations took it upon themselves to help the people here and fight for the rebel's cause.

Further south, near old France, Italy and Spain, there stood a few former nuclear bomb shelter domes. The people around there called themselves the "Neutral Shelters" . The shelters kept to themselves and reported small populations, enough for the Empire to ignore. Everyone else knew better. For now, they remained adamantly 'neutral' to protect themselves from the Empire's attention. It was a long battle to convince them out of their apathy. The woman believed it was still inevitable.

And to think it was only year 2055.

"Well, I want to be persistent," she said with a small shrug as she went over to the side to flick off the light..

"Aye, persistent ya were, persistent ya still are."

She flipped her long pale hair dismissively and pushed open the door of the shed. Cold thin air rushed at her while she stared out into the wasteland before her. Charred trees stood in the shadows of what was once a great open park. The bombs had not been merciful with civilian areas. They targeted these areas almost half the time. Thick grey clouds muted the sun, depressing the mood of the land. She took in another deep breathe then proceeded to walk towards the strategic meeting tent.

Inside, someone splayed a map across a long wooden table. A roughed up brunet scrutinized it. Two guards were posted on either side of the tent's opening.

By reflex they crossed their large guns to prevent her from entering until they realized who she was and let her by. Australia's careful placement of a few plastic markers kept him preoccupied. He gave a few nods to the scouter who gave him a survey of the area. A frown on his face deepened as he placed a couple more markers on the map, still listening. The young woman sneaked up behind him and leaned her chin on his shoulder.

"Oh, that is going to be hard."

Australia reacted fast and went to grab his dagger from his side. But she was faster. She knocked the blade from his fingers, captured his wrists and locked his arms behind his back. He was ready to knock his head against the attacker until his eyes met hers.

"You're one dangerous viper, you know that?" he said, as he froze mid-movement.

She laughed quietly as she let him go, "I know, that's why you let me stay."

"Among many things," he added while he rubbed at his wrists. "A dagger would've been on your neck had you not been fast enough."

"And a knife on yours if you managed to get that far." She replied. The woman crouched down and handed his weapon back to him with a smug grin. Their eyes faced off each other, challenge glinting in their eyes.

Australia returned the grin with a laugh and spoke, "Reminds you of back then doesn't it. Ha, but enough reminiscin' and playin' around." He turned back to his map. "We've got to replenish our supplies and that fertile land isn't goin' to get out of the Empire's control any time soon. Are you up for the task?"

The silver haired girl crossed her arms over her chest. Her dark blue eyes glinted a spark of inspiration in her, full of danger, determination and cunning. Her face was set in a dead serious expression. She had abandoned her frilly dresses a long time ago. Though still preferring the darker colours and a little fashionable tweak to them, she now wore much more practical attire. Only her white bow had remained the same. And that was for sentimental reasons.

What hasn't changed at all was the girl's icy relentless nature. When Belarus took matters seriously, you would be in high waters to stop her. Her smile gave no promise for mercy.

"When, where and how many weapons do I need to bring?"


	2. Oh dear, isn't that madness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Strong Language.

* * *

_**"Why would you want to fight against me?"** _

* * *

_Stats Loading...Stats Loading...Stats Complete_

_Weather: Partially Cloudy. Chance of Precipitation 2%_

_Radioactivity Levels: 5-8 %  
_

_Location: Ma-_

Belarus cut off the computer voice with a quick press of the button. A few people walked past her. They happily chattered away and paid her no mind. The device in her hand was quickly shoved away into her pocket. No one would have these in this area and I.C.U Droids were rolling around everywhere.

Besides she didn't need it to know where she was.

Maple Ensign Empire: European District #17. Formerly known as Lithuania.

She pulled out her tinted eye visor. The eye visor was an advanced technology created to provide entertainment, a fancy gadget for the elite. In return, it provided the state a few extra eyes. Hers had been hacked to allow her a wide spread vision of what and who was around her. The empire's system, unintentionally, was a great informant.

She strolled up casually down the steel plated walkways. Belarus kept her head down to avoid attention. The noise around her grew as she got closer to one of the busier streets. Her face paled as she turned the corner. Shit. That was new.

A large bear-like robot paced around the large building that was her target. Steel plates ran down the tech-creature's back. It was huge and menacing. Its red glowing eyes scanned the area. Every now and then it paused to process its data. Like its inspiration, a polar bear, the rest of it was plain white. The _oh so loving_ empire had placed a Kuma-bot in front of the Food Depository Station.

Citizens didn't blink twice at the monstrous robot. They continued to walk up to the building's doors to have their bar-code tattoos scanned and let inside the building. If you lived here, you didn't question the state's decisions. She forced herself to turn away and continue down the street.

Hairs on the back of her neck rose as she passed the beast. For now, it looked like harmless animal-shaped automaton, nothing to fear. But underneath all those steel plates on the mechanical bear hid turrets that could come out at any time. Not to mention the bear's mechanical strength. That alone, could still kill you.

Belarus had seen these creatures in action. She tensed as she recalled the image of one of them in action. The Kuma-bot in her mind tore apart at a defenseless boy. Limb after limb flew in the air while the ground was splattered and drenched with red. His legs and arms went first, so that his eyes could bear witness to his punishment, all in the name of the empire's justice. His crime? His parents had said the wrong thing to the wrong officer.

She steadied her breathing, as much as she could. That machine was just waiting for an officer's order, waiting to strike her. One of her hands casually found her hip where underneath her coat she hid her favorite automatic. The gun gave her some relief.

Once she was several feet from the killing robot, Belarus pressed a button on her visor. Her sharp voice spoke to the built-in communicator.

"Our scouter's missed a very important detail."

There was a click as the static cleared on the other end and she heard an familiar Australian accented voice reply.

"Shit. It's a Kuma-bot isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Must've just been recently assembled this mornin' "

"Do you think they know we are coming then?"

"Nah...Bear must've came with the new delivery yesterday. I'll tell the guys in the tunnels to hold back a little. Nat, I'd recommend not goin' for head on attacks but then again you don't like to take to listenin' "

She huffed, "I am not reckless."

There was a clear smirk in his reply, "Just dangerous, dear."

She hung up on the man without another reply and stared at the tops of the buildings' across the street with her visor. The space between the roofs were not going to be easy to jump across but not entirely impossible. She walked across the street and slunk into the shadow of two buildings. Belarus shot quick glances to her sides to make sure no one was around before pulling out her device from earlier.

"Scan the buildings in the area," She commanded it.

_Scanning...Scanning...Scanning complete._

_Residential Complex block #20. Five floors for each building. 14 Rooms vacant in total. Luxury level: 2. Built during the years 2048-2050 when popula-_

"No need to tell me that," she interrupted the machine, "Activate Spider Program."

_Activating...Running Fake Maintenance Function...Building Disabled._

Hssss. The sounds of the building's security system shut down were clearly heard. She grinned and walked to the entrance purposefully. Inside she'd have five minutes. She took cautious glance around at the I.C.U droids in the area and then she slipped into the building's lobby. She felt her head spin as she entered her new-found surroundings.

Luxury Level Two meant that this building wouldn't have the latest that came from the Main District overseas. It was going to be functional but not extravagant. Regardless, it was above anything she had back at the Liberator's camp. In fact, everything was always better looking the district, at the heavy cost of total state loyalty.

Her stomach twisted in a blend of disgust and longing nostalgia. The lobby looked exactly like an ordinary apartment lobby before The Disaster. It was almost liking traveling back in time, except for the massive propaganda posters plastered on the wall. There was also still a little more of a high tech touch in its security system to prevent citizens of "poor ranking" access.

'Poor ranking', what a word! The notion made Belarus want to throw up. The ranking system of the empire was rigged to provide the biggest snoop the biggest piece of cake. Getting yourself in here must've cost you to betray at least two people that you know. The more of your life that you sold to the empire, the better the empire treated you until you became useless to them too.

"May I help you ma'am?" A man at the front desk offered as he took notice of her as she gawked at her surroundings. "Is there someone you would like to visit? Do you wis-"

The woman's icy eyes flashed to him and he clamped his mouth shut. She looked around the lobby. Nobody else was around. Nice. In a practiced manner, Belarus took out her weapon and cocked the gun. The man froze. The man screamed.

She took another step towards the frightened man and he collapsed down on his knees. His whole being shook horribly. He then did what was expected from these disgusting two-faced citizens. First, he begged for mercy then followed bribes of money, power. He even tried to throw in some of the rarer goods these higher-up citizens were allowed to have into making a deal. His mouth offered whatever he could think of to her. It made her scowl deepen on her cold face.

 _Pathetic_ , she thought.

"You are going to be of great help to me. Get up." She pointed with the gun and the man was obedient, "There is a stairway to the roof, yes? Lead me to it."

The man led her down a hall and unlocked every door still barred with his bar-code. The building's security was still disabled for a couple more minutes but she needed this extra assurance.

She walked right past the other residents. Their priceless looks also amused her, greatly. They should be thanking her. She was something new in their mundane lives.

After several minutes, they finally got on the roof. She took a deep breath of the cool air, enjoying the fresh feeling. The buildings on either side were as easy to jump to as she predicted. She gave one final icy look to her human hostage and he fell on his knees again. Belarus let out another disapproving tsk then pressed a button on her visor again.

"You can tell those in the tunnels to start up. I will be distracting the majority of these droids soon."

"It says here you've activated the Spider Program. I know I said no head on attacks but what're ya plannin? "

"I am doing what I was tasked with. I will tell you when I am done," she replied flatly and shut off the line again. Beep! Beep! Her head snapped back to where the man had been. Fuck. He was gone. There went her meat shield. The audible hiss of the door resealing was as evident as ever.

"ALERT! ALERT! VIOLENT DISTURBANCE REPORTED! WOMAN REPORTED CARRYING A GUN! CITIZENS OF DISTRICT # 17 ORDERED TO EVACUATE THIS BUILDING IMMEDIATELY FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY! CALLING BACK UP!" shouted the robotic voices of several droids.

Belarus dared a a peek over the edge of the roof. Looks like she even got the attention of the Kuma-bot. Rttttt! She backed away in a hurry from the edge as she saw the machine pull out its main weaponry system. The bullets shot up just as she got out of its range.

She hoped that bear couldn't climb. She let out a sigh. Well, she did plan on catching security system's attention anyways. Still, there goes the fun of setting off an explosion. Click! She readied her gun. A cold wind blew as she waited.

Psssshhhh. The first wave of droids came through as they unlocked the door. Five rolled in with their indigo Cyclops-like eyes flashing to red every few seconds.

"Put down your weapon or face grav-" Bam! Smoke fumed from the machine's single eye, shot by Belarus' gun. The I.C.U droid collapsed. She let out a small half smile; she could recite those words from memory. There would be grave consequences indeed.

Her gun went to quick work with the first wave, then the next. Click! She reloaded another magazine into her gun. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The droids biggest weakness was in their eyes, once that was gone then the entire machine would shut down. The third wave was a little trickier to obliterate. The new droids, using their artificial intelligence, made shields out of the shot down bots.

That took a tiny bit longer to clear and she was forced to take cover by a nearby steel chimney to avoid the returning fire. She let her breathe catch up as there was a sudden break of droids spilling onto the roof. A few minutes later, the woman steadied her weapon for a fourth wave.

None came.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. There was no way that she had finished all the I.C.U droids in the area. She was tempted to take another look over the edge of the building to see what was going on. Turns out, she didn't have to do so.

A booming roar shook the building. Damn, that sounded like the Kuma-bot. The useless bullet rain from the other side stopped. The sounds of breaking glass and cracked bricks could only mean one thing.

Yes, she confirmed grimly in her head. These cursed evil things could climb. Belarus gritted her teeth. She gripped her gun tighter.

"May their creators die an icy death in radioactive Siberia," she cursed under her breath.

She wasted no time and jumped to the other building's roof. Belarus grunted as she did rolled over on the other side. But, she didn't stop there. She continued to run as fast as she could before-BOOM! The bear had followed her across. She turned around to see the menacing bear start up its turret system again, which had been closed during the jumping process. It aimed.

Bang! She took a special shot to one of the gears as it was opening. It messed up the gears a bit and only a few of the missile rows were brought out. The Kuma-bot's weaponry came out lopsided, and the bot growled as it struggled to deal with its stuck rows.

Despite the machine's difficulties, the bear still spewed a decent rain of fire towards her. Still, it was more dodge-able than a functioning system and her shot also affected its aiming calibrations. Belarus continued to take more shots in attempts to weaken it again.

RATATATATAT! DING! DING! She fired as much as she could at the bear robot. Its steel armor was too strong for her bullets though and they bounced off as the robot struggled with its system. Bzzzt! One of her bullets lodged itself in an eye. The Kuma-bot screamed.

Huh, its weakness was also like the I.C.U droids, she thought. Good to know.

While the machine was in 'pain' and distracted, Belarus jumped to the next building over in the opening. From there she activated her communication line again. She eyed her opponent carefully and tried to catch her breath at the same time. The static on the line went away and she spoke.

"I have just shot a Kuma-bot in the eye and I do not know how much longer I can keep this up."

"You've done enough. The team is just finishin' up now."

ROAAARRR! The bear screamed as it realized that she had jumped to the other building. Its last good eye glowed a brighter red.

"Okay good," The Belarussian woman said as her eyes widened. "Because I've made the Kuma-bot angry. Very angry."

Was it doubling its claws now? Were those teeth growing in its mouth? She gulped loudly. She hated the obvious answer to her rhetoric.

Australia heard the slight tremble in her voice and hurried his typing, "Jump over to the next building." More typing. "I'm hackin' it right now. Bust your way down and from there you should be able to spot a fountain. I'll have someone waitin' for you to pull you down."

"Okay." Belarus affirmed and shut off her communication line again, just in time.

The killer robot bear lunged at her and it missed by an inch of her hair. She ran to the door that lead from the roof into the building. She did exactly as Australia told her and ran for her life. Her surroundings got louder and louder as she raced down the stairs. Without care, she shoved a few shocked citizens out of her way. The rumbles of the bear echoed her footsteps.

The Kuma-bot was thankfully held back a little by the length of each door. It needed to bust each down to even get close to her so it gave her a bit of space. Droids in the building, meanwhile, kept her constantly busy. She didn't even have enough time to reload her gun, and so resorted to her classic weapon, a pack of thin sharp throwing stilettos. Good thing those robot eyes were such great blinking targets.

When she had reached the third floor she was starting to run low on her ammunition. No more droids blocked her away. The Kuma-bot was probably ordered to have her head by now. She threw another knife. Damn, she would have preferred more weapons to fight this machine off. And then-

"Shit. Shit," Belarus cursed as she came to an abrupt stop.

She had taken a wrong turn and reached a dead end. The woman turned around to see if she could go back. CRASH! The walls crumbled like cookie as the robotic paws of a killing machine clawed its way to her. The bear's large back brushed against the ceiling of the hallway. The bulbs of the lighting fixtures shattered, littering the floor in glass. The bear's murderous, blood-red eyes gleamed in the growing darkness.

Belarus looked to her left. A window! But that brought up a bigger issue. Would she able to make the three level jump? Would she have the guts too?

Her brain weighed her actions at a furious pace. She could probably deal the impact of the fall. There would be major bruising on the parts where she would land but not severe enough to prevent her from running away. The ground would definitely be much softer on her than that imminent death machine, much softer. But just as she was about to break the pane glass, a hooded figure walked in front of her.

"Shhhh...Shhhh..." the person whispered to the bear. Some sort of computer box disguised the voice. It spoke calmly to the machine, "Maple Ensign Empire code: 1ADK22LJKJ30T29N. Manual deactivation from Attack Mode."

Belarus felt her jaw drop as the bear hid away all its weapons and sat down to stare at the figure in compliance. Its red eyes dulled to a complacent grey. She remained backed up against the wall as she watched the figure go on to the pet the machine. The bear, in return, let out a happy growl.

Then, after the figure was done cooing with the bear, the hooded person turned to her. She dumbly looked back.

"The stairs are that way," The figure pointed out helpfully. Out from their pocket, they tossed her another magazine, "Here, this is for your troubles."

At that moment she should have taken her chance to run. Run back to the Liberators to raid another day. Run back to fight with a clear mind in future battles. But she didn't.

Belarus stayed to ask a question.

"Why are you helping me?"

There was a heavy pause. Belarus didn't know what she expected, but it was sure as nuclear rain over Italy wasn't what she received.

"I am a friend of your dear brother."

The silver-haired woman froze for a moment. Only when she heard the sound of more I.C.U droids approaching did she snap out of her shock. She turned to fire at the coming droids. In the corner of her eye she tried to catch another glimpse of the hooded figure before she left the floor. But, both the figure and the bear were already gone.

Once she had exited the building, she hunched over the fountain at the bottom. She let out a small yelp as a hand pulled her down. Beneath the street and the vision of the empire, hid the sewer system tunnels of the old city. New technologies made them obsolete and so the tunnels were forgotten. Eventually, these underground connections were re-discovered by the Liberators. Over time, the group expanded and improved upon them, turning them into helpful secret routes. Belarus stared back at the bright headlights of the human crew. Most were armed to back up her up in case she was chased.

Once they were certain that all the I.C.U droids passed over them, they rushed to regroup with the others. As they ran, Belarus couldn't help but give a longing glance behind her. A person asked her if she saw that someone was following them. Belarus shook her head and turned to stare blankly ahead of her.

Three thoughts haunted her later that night.

_Her brother was dead. He had no friends. What did that person mean?_

* * *


	3. Don't eat the cake!

* * *

_**Ask yourself this, is peace not worth it?** _

* * *

A knife sunk into the cork of the target across the field. Belarus' eyes narrowed. She tossed another one. Schlick! Horrible shot, she thought, barely got on the edge. She knew she could do way better. Her hand wandered to pick up another. The sun slowly began to rise as the woman continued her practice.

Her aim was bad today, she thought as she sat down to catch her breath. The ground beside the target had a few blades sticking out. She wiped the sweat off of her brow and collected her blades.. If she was going to head out to the neutral shelters, then she better check that her other aiming abilities were not this bad.

Crack! Crack! By the time she got the range, it was fairly busy, seeing as the sun had risen already. Diligent practice made for diligent liberators. The range itself was a Frankenstein of makeshift parts with several stalls separated by wood to allow privacy.

She loaded her gun with a magazine filled with plastic 'dummy' bullets. Normal bullets were valuable resources after all. Belarus peered down the aisle for an empty one.

She was a little surprised to see India there at the far end. Even after exile, the nation maintained a princely aura around him and did all he could to avoid violent conflicts. He could fix up their weapons, but never use them in combat himself.

As she walked closer, she saw that India was indeed taking a few rounds at a target...but with no bullets. The dark skinned man was shooting large rocks from a large bazooka-like gun balanced on his shoulder. The target at the end had been replaced by an even larger rock. He jolted back from the recoil of the weapon.

"I am surprised to see you here," she said as she stood in front of the empty shooting stall next to him. He glanced at her, smiled and then fired the weapon. He watched the rock smash hard against the wall, adjusted something and bent down to grab another from his pile.

"Good morning to you too," he replied cheerily. "Someone asked me adjust the calibrations on this to be able to shoot heavier missiles."

"I see," she replied as she emptied her first cartridge of bullets at the human shaped target. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration. The dummy bullets exploded when they hit the wooden target and left a temporary blue mark.

He loaded the rock, fired and adjusted. Then he set the gun down and tried to look her in the eyes. She kept a straight focus on her targets. "Australia said he could not find you at breakfast today," he said.

She loaded another round, "I got up really early this morning." She let fire.

"Did you remember to take your dose of anti-rad?"

She stopped shooting. She thought back for a second, "Hmph. I forgot."

India shook his head and pulled a medicine bottle from his bag, "Here, take your dosage right now. Australia figured you would have forgotten." He tossed it over to her and she fumbled as she caught it. "Are you okay?" India asked with his brows slightly furrowed.

"I am fine, I am fine," she said while she shook two capsules into her palm. Belarus tilted her head back as she swallowed them. The pills capsules themselves were tasteless but the feeling of the medicine was like a nice cup of green tea, soothing and rejuvenating. She tossed the bottle back.

He raised his hand high to catch it and placed it back into his bag. India glanced over to her shots, "Are you sure? Those are the worse shots I have ever seen you make."

"It is only a bad morning," she said defensively. She took aim at a spot where the main arteries of an enemy's neck would have been. She missed. She frowned, "I did not get enough sleep. That is all."

India did not press the issue any further. He bit his tongue as he almost pointed out that her hands were shaking. Telling her would only lead to an argument. He shouldered his heavy gun again and fired another rock. Belarus fired another round for a couple minutes before she gave up with a sigh.

"India?"

"Yes?"

"Russia did not have any close friends, right? He did not hide that from me, did he?"

India wanted to tell her friends and Russia did not mix. India also did not want to anger her. Instead the man shook his head in reply, "I do not know but I highly doubt it."

She made a small nod as she accepted his answer. Belarus let out a deep breath and took aim. Crack! She smiled. She was back in the game.

Later, Belarus found herself seated in the bulky back of an old military car. A human driver was at the front to get the three passengers to the Neutral shelters. From past experience, she was not allowed to drive, for the safety of the car and everyone in it.

The vehicle was jostled by the many bumps they had to pass over. Some parts of road expanded and jutted out of the ground, craters dotted the path. These were the scars of the old war conflicts. There were less and less buildings around them and those that remained were already in shambles.

It was a desolate rust coloured wasteland. Dangerous radioactive spots glowed green in the distance. Not a soul in sight. It would take at least two hours to get to the closest Neutral Shelter. Her mind wandered back again to the words told to her yesterday.

" _I am a friend of your dear brother."_

Her hands went to the top of her head and adjusted her bow absentmindedly. She shook her head furiously to dismiss the thought. Enough, she chided herself. She turned her attention to the other two humans in the back with her.

"Belarus, so I heard that you faced off a Kuma-bot yesterday," said the rough woman across from her. She looked at Belarus curiously and waited patiently.

The nation let out a huff of air, "I ran away from it. I did not kill it."

"Still, you managed to escape it! That's more than most can say!" The woman remarked. "How did you do it? You're so small and delicate. I would've never guessed you the type to go on any raids."

Belarus flicked away a stray bang in front of her face, "I guess being small or large means nothing. Knives are not all that heavy."

"Knives huh? I'll always prefer a nice machine gun. Less effort."

"A perfect match for someone lazy like you" The person beside the human jabbed her with their elbow. The conversation went on to more inside jokes and Belarus gave a thin smile at a few but mainly kept her distance.

A few joking moments later, the first Neutral shelter they were visiting came in clear view. It was a large dome structure, like an upside down fishbowl or really large glass bubble. Though it would appear pretty weak, this was built to withstand nuclear bombs.

Evidently, it was very successful.

Of course, you still had to get inside when those bombs fell and getting a spot inside was another challenge in itself.

As the vehicle got closer, they could see a rather large group block the steel entrance. Their driver changed gears and slowed down several clicks.

"Shhh...something's up. Everyone keep your head down," the driver told them.

Belarus squinted at the group ahead to try and make sense of what was going on. She noticed that most of them were armed, two rocket launcher carriers at least. She glanced back to her group, two machine guns, an automatic and a handful of grenades in case of emergencies in the secret compartment.

"Doesn't seem like empire goons," the rough woman said as she pulled out a pair of old-age binoculars. "I can't spot any of their ensign symbols."

"Gang Tribe then?" Belarus suggested.

The woman narrowed her eyes then shook her head, "Nothing distinct at this distance. Unless they're a new branch of the Tattoo bands, which I doubt, I have no clue."

"Well, we've already come this far," the driver said. "Any objections going forward?"

"No, let us see what the commotion is about."

As they neared, they could hear someone shout, "And I told you that we can't take your _kind_ in here!"

Belarus perked up at the word kind. Nations? Were these nations?, she thought.

"But we have nowhere else to go!"

The Liberator group waited in their idle vehicle and watched the group bicker with the guard. Belarus looked over each of the members to see if she could recognize any of them. There was a little disappointment in her heart. All of them were human.

"Move along! You're keeping those traders away from their business!" The guard spat. The large group grumbled as they moved away from the entrance to let the car through.

"Liberator Camp. Trading business as usual," the driver told the guard. They showed their goods and something was stamped on each of their hands, a childish "you did your best" stared at them. Belarus frowned a little.

They were already driving through the steel doors when someone shouted behind them, "You don't let _us_ in. But you let her, a nation, in? The hell?"

"We need to trade goods to survive. Take a good look outside, does it look anyone can be picky? You on the other hand are just asking for trouble."

"Hah! She's trouble too! All the nations are! They bring it with them wherever they go. They're the reason for this whole wasteland!"

Another voice shouted, "Let's go! We don't want to be part of your precious passive shelter if you let nations in."

Belarus kept an indifferent expression toward their shouts, even the other humans looked more distressed about it. She let her pale face remain frozen.

"Alright" The driver said as the vehicle was parked in the dome's parking lot, "Come back here in an half and hour. We still have four more to attend to."

Their business was carried out fairly quickly. Goods were bartered and even a few letters for a couple Liberator members that came from shelters were delivered. Belarus looked around and realized that she wasn't sure how to distribute the recorded hologram discs.

There were already very few people in this shelter, the easiest persuaded already left for their camp. Anybody left was more stubborn still and would reject her ads without a glance. After much debate she decided to leave a few at some corner, someone would get curious. Word would spread fast in this small connected population, maybe to its more secret parts too.

She turned to leave for the car but then she heard her name.

"Belarus! See it is her! I told you, it's the one that crazy guy's talking about!" she snapped her head around to see it was two children talking. She approached them. The children were immediately frightened.

"What does this cra-" she stopped. They had already run away. She sighed.

Turns out though, she wouldn't have to ask around about this crazy guy to meet. He was already waiting for her at the vehicle.

"Belarus, this guy wants to talk with you," the driver said with a rather irritated tone, "Won't leave until he does."

Her eyes scanned him, tattered wear, old balding scalp, an exhausted tired look. She crossed her arms, "What do you want?"

"Shh shh…" the man said as he waved his arms wildly as if it was part of his speech, "It's not what I want…noooo …shh..shhh…it's about what you want…or…shh. Shhh…"

She glared at him with her icy blue eyes and asked, "And what could I possibly want from an old madman like you?"

"Shh…shhh…" That annoying tic made Belarus' knife-throwing hand itch. "It's about answers. Yesss. It's about answer on your brother."

"B-brother," she uncrossed her arms and neared closer. "What do you know about my big brother."

"Shhh shhh" the man became more insistent on his shushing. "No one must know. No one must know. Shh…shh…pretty silver hair you. Silver. Shiver." He began to walk in the other direction rambling.

"You are not getting away," Belarus grabbed his arm. "Tell me what you know."

"Shh…shhhh…a **robot made of scarecrow stuffing** and an **unburnable red ace card** …and…shh…shhh…he… **a fake two-way torn.** Pretty pretty shiver hair you. And he… **coldest as ever** … **has fallen for the reflection's sweet words**. But no one told you that…shhh shh…"

The man yanked himself from her grip with a surprising show of strength then ran off. Belarus was left there half in shock and half in annoyance for the waste of her time.

"Crazy old man," she muttered as she got into the back of the military car.

Belarus groaned as she stretched herself out from the car, later that day. She wanted nothing more than to sleep. They had travelled a lot today and there had been a few debates in some the domes. Some humans even openly attacked her. She had remained strong and those that were impressed by her actions were handed the recorded discs. If they were effective, then they should know soon enough.

With slow steps, she walked to her assigned bunker. A visitor leaned against its metal walls. She fought the smile that wanted to crawl on her face.

"Go away. I am too tired to fight," she said to Australia.

"You've been avoidin' me all day." He looked deeply into her eyes with a soft smile, "What went down in that raid?"

She stared right back, not backing down but her voice came out quieter than intended, "Nothing happened."

He slowly reached for her face, "And I know that's your code for "you don't want to talk about it". I'm tellin' you straight out. That's not happenin' right now."

She pushed away his hand gently, "I..." She looked at his hand, tempted to hold it but she stopped herself. She put her hands in the pockets of her jacket. "Hey…" she said instead. "Do you think…nations could come back...after obliteration."

He sighed and pulled her arm to get her closer to him. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her in an loose embrace. "Natalya, I don't know…" He kept her in his arms for a few minutes, "Okay, you're not even hittin' me in the gut for that move. This is _really_ botherin' you. You're scarin' me Nat."

"I remembered something about my big brother yesterday," she finally stated. That was the partial truth, she thought. She didn't want to admit that she was letting the words of a stranger get to her. Australia would only tease her about it.

"Ah."

She continued, "It made me wonder about him, wonder about a possibility if he were alive." There was a short silent moment.

Australia began to pat her head soothingly, "Your mind needs to seriously give you a break."

Her hand went up to subconsciously fix her bow and their hands brushed. She pulled her hand away. She furiously hoped she wasn't blushing.

Belarus said, "Yes, the mind does not let up…"

Silence returned. The comforting warmth was nice to bask in and her entire body relaxed even more. Then, after a few minutes her smile flashed into a sly smirk. Before Australia could guess what was happening, his world was flipped upside down and he was falling to the ground.

"Ow…" He groaned then looked up at her happy face. "Now there's the dangerous Natalya I lo-…know so well." The brunet got up and dusted himself off, "Are you comin' to dinner today?"

"No, I prefer not eat while surrounded by such rowdy, loud company."

"Hey, it isn't that bad!"

"Perhaps another time…" she added quietly then got inside and firmly closed the door.

She got ready for bed. The last thing she had to do was remove her bow. She took the white ribbon, constantly washed, very frail from age, down into her hands. The bow was hand-sewn and had a little clip to go in her hair or with a headband. She held it close to her heart for a moment.

For the first time in years…she had a sudden urge to open her drawer. Inside were a few of the objects she had with her upon coming here: a book with a few photographs inside, a bobby pin and a bag filled with sunflower seeds. She was tempted to take the bag and look inside. She felt herself want to check that all the seeds were there, count them out.

Instead, she closed the drawer again, placed her bow on top of it and curled into sleep. Another time.

"Brother" she softly whispered into the night.


	4. Curiouser and Curiouser

 

* * *

**_Look out at the wasteland. Look at the savages._ **

* * *

 

 

A whole week passed with little spectacle since Belarus' visit from the Neutral Shelters. Little reply and reaction came from the secluded groups. Those who wanted to fight had already joined them. As was expected, many had said. Belarus kept their words from getting to her.

 

Then, Dome #35 responded.

 

Located closer to the center of Old France, Dome #35 was too far and too close to unknown territory. Why bother risking a visit just to make some contacts? Somehow though, one of her devices had been passed over there. And what their support came with was quite a happy surprise.

 

An electromagnetic pulser.

 

This device could apparently deliver pulses of electromagnetic disturbances lasting up to weeks, knocking out certain electronic devices within its range. Placed in just the right place, it would be powerful enough to permanently take down the Empire's continental electronic network. Every Kuma-bot, I.C.U droid, building security systems and whatever else the empire had would be shut down. There would be little defense against a takeover.

 

Unfortunately, the weapon did come with some conditions. One of these was a request that the Liberators send representatives to the Neutral Shelter to talk in person. Their leader also wanted a nation to come to pick up the weapon. Several members of the Liberators were suspicious, so they sent her. Just in case there were _extra_ plans.

 

"You know, you don't have to play with your weapons. You might not even need to use them so there's nothing to be nervous about," India said.

 

"I am bored," she corrected, not even bothering to look beside her.

 

They were all seated in the back of a large grey van. It had been modified to have more seats, but cushions themselves were hard to come by. so most of them sat around on the ground. Three nations and six humans were in the car. The extra two nation additions had to argue their way in. Belarus had scoffed at them.

 

The pale nation leaned back. Her knife cartwheeled in the air as it had before. She grabbed at it. She tossed it again.

 

India shook his head and turned his attention back to the closest window. Belarus shrugged. She looked over to brunet across from her. Australia continued double checking the communication system that they would leave at the shelter. The more ties, the better. Meanwhile, some of the humans were playing cards.

 

As more hours ticked by, the van suddenly swerved to the left. They yelled in complaint at the driver. No response. One of them got up to check up on her, clinging to whatever they could to maintain balance, while the van continued on its path. Their driver and their co-driver were bleeding from the neck. Clear sniper shot.

 

"Down!" shouted Australia.

 

Everyone ducked from the windows. Australia booted up a sensory device. India crawled into the driver's seat. He moved away the corpses as best he could, green disgust on his face, and took control of the car. There was a jolt that sent everyone backwards as it sped up. Belarus eyed one of the machine guns in the vehicle and gave a side-glance to the door. She absentmindedly listened to the conversations of the group.

 

"How many?" one of the humans asked while she cocked her gun.

 

Australia frowned, "I'm gettin' 8 heat signals. Accordin' to this, we're in an abandoned city." He looked up at the group, "This isn't Gang-Tribe territory, is it?"

 

"No," One of the men said as they crossed their arms. "Must be raiders. Well, we do have two rocket launchers. I'm sure sending one out will scare them away."

 

"And tell them exactly what kind of loot they can get from us? Not a chance!" Another human protested.

 

"Somethin' is closin' in quick. Gotta get wea- WHOA! India, a warnin' next time will ya?"

 

"Sorry! Massive crater!"

 

Whoosh! Not wanting to waste another minute, Belarus slid the side door open. She balanced the machine gun on to the floor and fed it its ammo belt. The tires of the car created a small dusty fog and she narrowed her eyes to keep the dirt away. As the dust cleared, she could see who she was facing. The woman smiled.

 

"Belarus, No!"

 

"Not Raiders," She replied curtly and sent out the barrage of bullets.

 

Within seconds, the first dying screeches were heard, next came the bursts of radioactive green. Blobs of radiated goo exploded and the car was tilted away, just enough to avoid the mess. Exposure to the blobs, zombie-like organisms of living creatures mutated by nuclear waste, didn't threaten radioactive poisoning, but it was a nightmare to clean up. She pulled the side door closed.

 

"So, where were we?" She said to the group with a cool face and leaned back against the seats.

 

India sighed, "You're lucky those were just blobs. A raider would have fired first."

 

She readjusted the ammo belt without a word.

 

Australia joined in with a collected tone, "Well, we're  _luckier_ that she did somethin' about it. Better report this as blob-sightin' region, get it in the Liberator's database."

 

A human coughed, "um, but those blobs couldn't have shot the driver..."

 

BOOM! India slammed the brakes before the car could fall into the fire of the explosion. The sudden jolt tossed everyone forward on to their faces.

 

"The blobs were a distraction…" India whispered..

 

Australia crawled to the front, "Shit! They're using the area to trap us."

 

Fifteen humans stepped through the explosion. No distinctive markings. These were definitely a new group. As more of the dust cloud disappeared they realized that they had entered an abandoned city. A few buildings in the area still stood, tall enough for a sniper to camp. Stupid move.

 

However, only the two nations in the front could be seen through the windshield. The rest of the group remained ducked over to prevent their opponents from knowing their numbers. Surprise was still on their side, but they had to use it wisely.

 

"Stop, or ram through?" India whispered, settling his hand on the gears.

 

"They've got explosions," Australia muttered. He frowned as he squinted at the group ahead. "I think they want to say something to us…" He rolled down one of the windows.

 

"-et out of the car and you just might live!" One of the humans across of the car cried out.

 

"You wouldn't want to mess with us! We are already in a terrible mood!" Another human added. Belarus widened her eye slightly as she recognized that voice. it was someone from that rowdy anti-nation human group from a week ago.

 

A human noticed her reaction, "Know them?"

 

She shrugged, "A nomad group got rejected at one of the Neutral Shelters from last week. Seems like they went back to their lifestyle. Very anti-nation."

 

The human beside her grinned, "So in other words, give them hell."

 

Belarus didn't answer.

 

Australia calmly took charge, "India, step on the pedal, swerve off on the right." Australia didn't bother turning around. "Two of you, blow those buildings down. chance we'll get all the snipers down."

 

India hesitated as he reached for the controls, "But-"

 

He retorted back louder but still not breaking to the point of yelling, "We don't have time to argue about the value of life. Them or us, now go!"

 

With a face that looked like it was swallowing down disgust, the order was followed. The sounds of explosions and screams, like a symphony's climax with a little too much brass and symbols, filled their ears. The clinking of the bullets rained onto the vehicle but by swerving, it was all focused on the bulletproof door.

 

There were angered shouts from their enemies, but the Liberators were well-trained, better than any nomadic raider group. Raiders were survivors, but they developed caution. Liberators treated every outing as a suicide mission, they trained to remain collected. They opened the door and fired before the amateurs could even cock their guns or raise their own missiles.

 

"Ru-" Gah! The raider's voice was cut off by bullet. A row of raiders was cut down.

 

Belarus didn't bother with her automatic. After the initial counter-strike, she jumped straight out for the group.

 

Swish! She danced in between them. Another twirl, another dip, another blind spot exploited. Her blade cut necks with accuracy and grace, as if she were a painter drawing arcs on a canvas except _her_ paint was of deep crimson-red. A lifeless doll expression kept painted on her face. Her eyelashes dropped low to keep herself from making eye-contact with her enemies.

 

Except for one, the vocal man from earlier. His words were garbled by his blood but they were distinct. Determined, he fought to stare at her.

 

"Fuck... you... nations."

 

_Cursing us until his dying breath, how pointless. How many does that make it now?_

 

The hacks and groans soon faded away into the drenched ground and the empty clouded sky. The young woman stood up straight and sprinted back into the car, while others were getting out to loot the bodies. They all replenished their ammo, armed up again, then headed on their way. The male nations took over driving duty with Belarus ready to fire from the side. For the rest of the trip, no one felt like playing cards or telling jokes.

 

The chime of a small metal object rang. The silver-haired woman felt Australia glance back at her from his seat. She stared at the offending blade on the floor. She could have sworn she saw something in that reflection.

 

"Nat?" she heard him say.

 

She quickly scowled and picked up the knife to put into her hidden pack. "Nothing," She replied.

 

Dome #35 was a sight to behold. Unlike the Neutral Shelters close-by to them with simplistic designs, this shelter was extravagant. Its design along the sides was made up of metal scales, welded all across and around. Dull canary-yellow orbs dotted across the glass roof the building. Belarus was surprised that the Empire hadn't already taken over this place, from the look of its evident value.

 

When they drove up to the door, a snaking camera slid out of the door and poked at the Driver's window.

 

"State your business," a digitized voice demanded.

 

India cleared his throat and rolled it down, "We are Liberator representatives."

 

"Ah, hold on for a moment."

 

And then suddenly, the ground below them opened up. They dropped a couple feet before a metal landing plate caught them half-way and lowered them to the ground. With shock etched on most of their faces, it was no surprise why their greeter, an old woman with grey streaks in her brown braided hair, laughed upon sight of them.

 

"Sorry, sorry. Your expressions were just-" An old woman went on as she guided the group through a large underground tunnel. Their van was parked on the platform for later.

 

"No worries. A little warnin' would've been nice though," the brunet laughed.

 

The woman flashed a small frown, "You see, we don't get a lot of visitors around here."

 

"Not into tradin'?"

 

"No, no. We're self-sufficient here."

 

"Self-sufficient? You mean, you can grow things down here?"

 

She nodded, "Whatever else we need, we get from the other Neutral Shelters...and even they don't like come around this part. But that's what we get for being surrounded by Rad-pools."

"Rad-pools?"

 

"Nuclear waste residue," the woman explained. "The old animals of this land have long been mutated, forever stuck to follow their remembered patterns. Good thing the birds were dead before then." She shook her head, "Oh listen to this old woman ramble. We're almost at the inventor's home."

 

"So, tell us about this inventor," India asked.

 

She hummed, "The Inventor is... an odd fellow but I think you'll understand that more when you meet him.

 

Belarus and her group found their jaws dropping as they exited the tunnel to a large open space. There were actual streets in the space and the houses, though not as pristine or as large as a house in the empire, were better than most homes out there. They all appeared sturdy and some were even decorated. Two-story buildings didn't seem to be an oddity around here. Above them the walls of the underground became further away. Light shone down on them, as if there was an actual open sky looking down. Children were playing. While it wasn't a recreation of the past like the empire's designs, it was a humble and human.

 

Ordinary people talked, laughed and walked around. Not a sign of a single droid or screen watching over them. They were free and there were so many of them. People _smiled_ not with the sad expression in their eyes, weighed down by the harsh truth of the wasteland that killed you in the inside, as it was in most shelters, but genuinely happy and hopeful.

 

Belarus could feel the corners of her lips lift a little.

 

A man behind her spoke, "I am surprised the Empire has not taken this place."

 

The woman nodded again, leading them down another turn, "That's why we're underground. Keeps the empire out of our hair. Anybody trying to peer from the top will see an abandoned city."

 

"So, the top is also a decoy?"

 

"Something like that," She replied. She stopped before a run-down brick house. The front pathway was decked out with wired sculptures. "The Inventor will be in there. After you talk with them, our leader has invited you to a dinner. You may also choose to stay for a while. We already have guest rooms set up for you to rest before your journey back."

 

"Dinner? Guest Rooms? " Australia grinned, "Most alliances we make are sealed with just a simple handshake."

 

"Well," the woman looked at Belarus, "this nation made a compelling argument, and it has caused a bit of a spark."

 

Minutes later, they knocked on the door of the Inventor's home.


	5. The Dodo

* * *

_**And on that day, humanity was given a polite reminder. It's okay! I'm Canadian!** _

* * *

They entered to discover a room entangled with a thin metallic web. Wires splayed above them and darted back and forth across the room. A few devices, some buzzing and letting out a few cracks of static, were trapped around in various spots. Tools dangled down by hooks along a few of the room's foundations. Belarus could sense there was particular thought given to their ordering.

 

Yet, in this order, there existed a few spots of chaos. Splotches of oil on side tables and walls. Dismembered rusted machines, which were gutted for their more valuable parts, lay across the floor. For as much light was brought by the intricate set up along the wires, there were all the more shadows.

 

At the deep center, someone worked. A helmet hid away their face.

 

The man, she assumed from their rather large and hardened hands, worked diligently at his main work-table. His pre-war styled clothes were filthy and clearly worn down by the years. His helmet was, by contrast, futuristic and shone with a dulled but visible gleam. Over his torso was a self-sewn vest with dozens of pockets which in turn covered up a beige button up long-sleeve shirt. The helmet's design was minimalistic; a single black rectangle for the eyes and a single oval for the mouth. His hands, at least, seemed human.

 

He fiddled around with one more connecting wire then looked up at them.

 

India took a step forward, "Are you the Inventor?"

 

The figure nodded and raised his hand near the lid of his helmet. However, instead of taking it off, a click was heard and the person spoke with a terribly scratchy and hoarse voice, "I presume that you are the nations."

 

"Well, three of us, anyways," He pointed around. "The others are humans from the Liberator camp."

 

"I see." The helmeted man pressed another button on the inside lid of his helmet and a robot wheeled in out of the shadows. Balanced on top of its head was a tray of pastries, "I welcome you all then to the dome. Please, sit." The Inventor gestured to a crescent-shaped couch slowly approaching them.

 

"This place sure is somethin' else," Australia said as he took a muffin and casually sat down. "You'd think that there wasn't even a wasteland out there." The others followed after him and Belarus felt more on edge than ever.

 

"I will take that as a compliment," the Inventor replied with another nod. "You will have to excuse the bland taste of the pastries. I make do with what I can."

 

"Incredible." India said after finishing his mouthful, "A baker _and_ an inventor. The people here must be very lucky to have you."

 

"Thank you, um..."

 

"India," The dark skinned man supplied then began chewing faster to finish his food off. "How rude of us. We have not introduced ourselves. My name is India. It is a pleasure to meet you."

 

He lent out his right hand. They shook and the rest of the introductions followed. Belarus gave a short response and an even shorter nod but the helmeted man didn't mind.

 

"Again, I welcome you all to the dome. Excuse me...is something wrong?" The Inventor asked as India stared at the far wall.

 

"Oh," the man snapped his head back, "Sorry, I'm just intrigued by the gadgetry you have in here. It's fascinating! Did you make all of it yourself?"

 

The Inventor spoke with a smile, "Most of it. There was some stuff left behind by another inventive mind, who knows who that was...Are you an Inventor yourself?"

 

India laughed, "More like a tinkerer. I fix up what I can find or what others give me. A little here and there."

 

There was an approving nod, "Modest. So, have you been 'tinkering', as you say, before the war?"

 

"More of a dancer, really." A shrug accompanied his words, but there was a hint of sadness in his tone. "Anyways, I've been meaning to ask but how does the dome have energy to…"

 

At this point, Belarus tuned out of their conversation and looked around again. She eyed the pastries again, still uninterested, and then began to scan the little robot that held it. It appeared to be made out of an old vacuum cleaner with an added band of lights around its head. A big blue button was placed where the hose would've been.

 

She bit her lip and glanced at the helmet man who was avidly explaining. Everyone else was distracted, filled with amazement. With a subtle motion, her hand sprang out and pressed it. The reaction was instant.

 

Kakling! The tray fell down along with all the baked goods. BEEEP! BZZZZT! BZZZT! Everyone except for the Inventor jumped away. The little robot spun around while the beeping got higher pitched. Belarus found her hands twitching to pull out one of her knives. Not yet, wait, she told herself.

 

Suddenly, there was large whoosh as its top flew off. A little spark popped out. Another followed. Flashes of light and mini explosions danced high but didn't quite reach the ceiling. These were fireworks! A little electronic trumpet sound played to join the little display. Belarus opened her hand to catch one of the falling embers, half disappointed.

 

The Inventor coughed awkwardly. "That was a premature." The room turned their attention back to him as he explained, "I had planned that for the end of our visit, give a little higher mood." The figure turned head to Belarus, "For someone who's suspicious, you are definitely curious."

 

She froze and sent him a glare. "Perhaps come up with a more interesting topic. Perhaps don't leave buttons out there in the open," her words bluntly hit back. The Inventor winced and tensed.

 

"Belarus!" India shouted to her indignantly, "We're supposed to be making allies. They have been nothing but kind."

 

"It's fine." The Inventor said. "I am here to gain trust, as much as see if you can be trusted." His voice was controlled.

 

He stood up and placed the robot right side up. Most of the pastries were saved by the tray so he placed them back on its head. The rest were thrown into a bin labeled ' _Organics_ '.

 

Then he dug out a small device out of his breast pocket. It was something designed akin to a pocket knife. He went on, "It is rather crowded in this room." There was a smile behind his voice, "would anyone care to have a little flight?"

 

Australia grinned and nodded eagerly, desperate to clear the tension that had built up. The Inventor tossed the device to him. "Give it a little poke," he said. The brunet did so and the machine unfurled itself into a spider-like form. It crawled along the Australian's arm and then then rested on top of his head.

 

"HELLO!" it beeped.

 

Belarus narrowed her eyes. She had seen one of those before in a raid, "Is that an A.L?"

 

"An old prototype, yes." The Inventor conceded. "One of the first, most likely. It's not connected to the Empire's network if that's what you're concerned about."

 

"What do you mean, one of the first, most likely?" Belarus pressed. Arachnid lookouts, A.L, were used when the I.C.U droids were too bulky to spy. She had lost a good inside Liberator spy because of one of them.

 

"This Dome...is a little special than the others. As you can see we have much more capabilities than other places you may have seen. There's a reason for that. I will bring you to it. But first- 975514, Code 0932."

 

A snicker came from the robot, "Just tell me to open the roof!" It jumped off Australia's head down to the floor and crawled to the center of the group. With a Bzzzt! sound, the roof above them folded up.

 

Belarus felt like she was suddenly very familiar with that tone but the robotic voice threw it her off. Where had she heard that before? So many years had gone by the in the war. Too many years had passed to recall the face and name of a single soldier...yet...

 

The man ignored the robot and continued, "Activate anti-gravity field, area 100 by 100 by 100."

 

"Yeah, yeah."

 

"Mute mode, 975514" the inventor said strictly.

 

"No fun!" Then the robot remained quiet.

 

Like it was blowing a bubble, a little translucent sphere grew from the droid then surrounded them. Red octagonal tiles spread below them. They floated for a while above the floor then were lightly let down, clacking down one by one. The little arachnid machine went on beeping.

 

"I have a few rules for all of you. 1. Do not step off the red tiles. 2. Do not touch the A.L 3. Do not touch the bubble. Break these rules and we all plummet to our deaths." The Inventor signaled 'up' to the robot, "Let's go!"

 

On those ominous words, they took the air. Belarus felt her breath hitched as they rose higher and higher through the Inventor's roof and home, then above town in the dome. Flying! They were flying. Her stretched towards the roof of the dome. As she basked in the freeing feeling, she felt her eyes widen as she looked below again.

 

The dome was _much_ bigger than she expected. What they had been headed down was only a small smidgen of it. Immediately, her eyes were attracted to the flat farm lands to the right. They _were_ actually growing food here.

 

A flute. Her whole body swished around and she quite nearly ran to the sound. Music. Elegance in the sound, clarity in the air. She searched for the player down below. Another surprise. There were more of them, _musicians_.

 

Progression swept over the notes. Strings joined delicately, careful not to intrude but playing their part into making chords. Together they blended, painting an image of serenity in the air. From where they were, the music was quiet but still very profound. It relaxed the mood that had grown between all of them, easing up her own paranoia.

 

She didn't know how long she kept still staring. The young woman hadn't realize how much she missed gentle melodies, like the lullabies sung to her by a sister who cried too much, such a minute flaw to be remembered by. Songs by drunken men and women, hardened by their struggles towards a cause, could never capture this sweetness. The flute played a hopeful path to the past.

 

"Amazing," India said finally.

 

The Inventor nodded, "Yes. We have a lot of artists in this dome."

 

"Just like this for no reason whatsoever? Why?" it was one of the humans now, someone who had been in the camps all their lives. Their face looked so awe-struck.

 

Hesitance.

 

"It brightens the mood does it not?" The inventor replied. The looks on the humans was kind of funny. One of them was about to respond but a musical note interrupted them.

 

"H-hey are they doing it again?" another human said excitedly.

 

Indeed, the small group was readying themselves for another song. In that moment, each nation remembered another sad truth. Guiltily, they exchanged glances at each other. _They_ had the memories of the world before. These humans had never tasted anything close to this.

 

"We have to go elsewhere," the Inventor said, causing the humans to frown deeply. He turned to the young woman. "Would you still like an answer to your question, Belarus?" The Inventor asked.

 

"Let those who want to watch, watch." she responded. "I have listened to enough music in my life. I want answers."

 

In the end, only nations remained, though India was the most indecisive. The humans were told to ask around for the main hall to find them. Then, the A.L flew them away to the other side, a less pretty side of the dome. They stopped in front of a house, rotted away by age but clearly once had been exquisite.

 

"This was France's house." The Inventor announced as they were dropped on the ground. A cracked brick pathway led to its door.

 

Belarus watched Australia mouth his words before he tentatively asked, "Is he still here?"

 

The Inventor gave them a firm no, not in any way angry or offended. Simply, it was another stated fact. He led them up the cracked steps.

 

Inside, there wasn't much. In fact, they couldn't enter very far in with its collapsed floorboard blocking the way. It seemed the Inventor only wanted to show them to a plaque. Unlike the rest of the house, that was falling apart bit by bit, this plaque was polished and maintained.

 

" _Keep your head and your humanity."_ It read.

 

"The last words the man had ever said, and the motto of this dome." There was snort, "That sentimental dummkopf."

 

The young woman was the first to snap her head in shock, "Germany?"

 

A button was pressed along the helmet. There was hiss of air. Slowly it was taken off, revealing bit by bit scarred tissue with every inch. A heavy breathing sound grew louder. Belarus noticed a device was implanted in the man's neck, probably to allow him to breathe easier.

 

"I am," the destroyed man before them confirmed.

 

He looked towards the destroyed living room. Empty chairs stood there but they were obviously too unstable to sit on. Dust covered up the art that had once vibrantly brought life to the room. There was a large bang as something toppled over.

 

"We cannot talk here, nor can we do so outside. They are not ready yet to know that I'm a nation," Germany explained. With a quick swish and click he put on his helmet again, "You will have to excuse the helmet...I cannot stand to have it off for too long"

 

He led them outside the house and brought him back to his own. Their flight, although still inciting the same excited feelings, was not as interesting. All three nations, no matter how hard they tried to avoid it, stared at the Inventor.

 

"Was it the bombs?" India asked sympathetically once they were safe in the Inventor's, Germany's home.

 

The man scooped up the A.L, "Yes. No surprise there, I suppose."

 

"Why are you here?" Belarus pressed, quickly getting over her own shock. If anything, Germany should be hiding in his own lands.

 

Tired but slightly amused, the man replied with a sigh, "I must protect the magnificence and beauty of people, as France has said. He lost so much trying to save my brother, I had to return the favour. So, I swore this place remained a safe haven, the best among the many," He let out a harsh laugh-cough hybrid, " 'Let the nation I never wanted to exist, protect my legacy,' he said."

 

"So I assume...Prussia..."

 

"Didn't make it. Switching over to this world was one thing, staying in it, no matter how much land we tried to reassign to him, couldn't keep him here. I do have a record of his memories thanks to France. Turns out he had been prolonging his stay even in our normal world."

 

Solemn pause. "Is that what's powering the A.L?"

 

Australia and India looked to Belarus with bewildered expressions. She had never told that she knew how these work; she hadn't wanted to remember that one raid when she had witnessed one of these feed. The Inventor leaned back, "You know more than you let on, Belarus. Did you take up inventing as well?"

 

"Technology does not interest me. Lost a good human to them."

 

That was the sting of the machine. A.L's needed no batteries, no solar power or anything like that. It had to be fed memories, the consciousness of a living human being. The more given to it, the more power, the longer it lived. You could program them to do anything with simple orders and the original host of the memories could do so without speaking. As far as Belarus knew though, there was no reverting the process.

 

And that wasn't all. Remove everything and the host would be left in a state of madness. The A.L's that one sad night had been left starving. Not enough bad memories in that particular Empire territory Had been donated. By protocol, the devices then tracked down the one with the most to give. It hadn't been pretty. Belarus never agreed to let anyone spy inside the empire again and she made extreme efforts to avoid raids at night.

 

"Ah," another pause, "Yes, that is what's powering it." There was sigh as he looked over the device, his hands holding it fondly. "Arachnid Lookout' is a name really not suited well to these machines. They used to be called Archived Life Carriers."

 

"Archived Life Carriers?" She repeated with surprise. Belarus had never heard that term before.

 

"Archived Life Carriers," he confirmed. "Or so France has told me. He could have been making it up."

 

Those words felt more right. She nodded thoughtfully. Amusingly, it was the sound of a cuckoo clock that broke their moment this time.

 

"You must not be late for dinner," He then stood up to lead them outside his house.

 

When he stayed behind, India asked, "Are you not coming?"

 

There was a shake of the man's head.

 

"I cannot eat," replied Germany simply.

 

Belarus gave a quick look behind her to watch the door towards the Inventor's home close. Germany had become a bit of a paradox, holding on to the past by moving on into the future. A bit of her regretted acting so coldly to the Inventor. She then looked ahead and saw the elderly woman that had been their greeter waiting for them.

 

She followed silently, ignoring the glares that India was directing at her. He'll get it over it. It wasn't the first time she dampened a meeting with potential allies. She was not their diplomat, that's for sure. She knew that he feared her anyways.

 

However, that's not where her thoughts were.

 

The plaque got her thinking while they strolled to the main hall. Captured past, though thriving, still surviving, was still trapped. There was no sun for sunflowers to grow here. Her ears pretended to catch the whispers of the melody from earlier.

 

Like accepting a happy lie, Belarus concluded.


	6. A Tea Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of RusAme further ahead.

 

* * *

_**Won't you sit down and have some nice pancakes with me?** _

* * *

Belarus's interest in the main hall died fairly quickly. Once they had all met up inside the building, they were told to wait for the leader. In the meanwhile, they busied themselves with exploring the entrance room. The dome, as its motto declared, held great importance to maintaining old post-war heir looms. So, it was no surprise that the main hall acted partly as a museum as well.

Upon her first sight, she could not deny that she had internally gasped at their mere existence, let alone the objects' condition. Art hung by the walls, not out of prideful bragging, but to share with an audience something that was meant to be cherished. No cameras were bolted on the walls to watch them like vultures.

However, that just made her pace the room more furiously and biting her lip constantly.

Her hands didn't long for her knives, like in the Inventor's home. No rather, it felt like there was an itch all over skin that she couldn't reach or scratch.

Her eyes, icy and dark, scanned the neutrally beige room. Only her group of Liberators were placed in the room. It had been cleared to give them some personal space. Too open, too trusting. Unlike in the wasteland, there was nothing to fear here. But then, why even join the Liberator movement? What exactly had her words done?

A young teenage girl entered the room; the sound of her petite heels grabbed at their attention.

Belarus placed her age at around sixteen to seventeen, generously rounding upwards. A single purple ribbon hung from her blond hair like a butterfly resting on a flower. Bangs framed her face and a small braid wrapped around her head like a crown. She was adorable. The girl curtsied before them.

Belarus paused for a moment. Somehow, she had seen this young lady before.

The girl smiled pleasantly as she spoke, "I welcome you all to Dome #35. I hope you have enjoyed your visit so far."

"Is the leader joining us anytime soon?" One of the humans asked, simply speaking to fill the space.

Although the young lady's tone was still high, sweet and gentle, Belarus watched the girl rigidly tense. "I _am_ the leader. Please, call me Lili." She held out her hand.

There was a jolt of surprise among them. Sheepishly, the human who had spoken smiled apologetically and stepped forward to shake it. They froze when they made eye contact.

"Your eyes-" the human began to say but couldn't finish their sentence as Lili let go.

Curiousity piqued, Belarus took a glance. A normal soft teal color, and wide-eyed as the youth should be. The woman looked back to the shaking human. No, it had to be something else. Then, as Lili returned her gaze, Belarus realized who this was.

The girl's features had aged quite a bit since she had last seen her-which was strange in itself-but only a nation's eyes had this effect, ancientness in a single glance. Plus, there was only one nation she knew that wore a purple ribbon like that.

Before any of the nations could speak, the girl cut them off, "Please, call me _Lili._ " Soft teal hardened.

The nations took the hint and nodded.

Belarus felt she was not as surprised as she was with the Inventor. More of her was curious as to why Germany failed to inform them of Liechtenstein. Did he think this as insignificant, or did he not know himself? Or was this a test?

"Follow me please," Lili continued, "The dining area is this way. Afterwards, we may discuss everything later."

There was much to be said about how the humans bowed as the young girl walked by.

Despite the initial shock, she kept the mood uplifted as they went. Cheerily, she chatted with the other humans, giggling at whatever stories they offered her. Belarus noted that this girl hadn't changed much at all.

"I hope you are fine with deli sandwiches and vegetable broth for dinner," She spoke as they all sat down on the velvet cushioned chairs at the dining table. "We have to make do with whatever was preserved and what we can grow. "

"You all are constantly apologizin' for the best things I've ever ate in a long while." Australia let out with a laugh and looked to the humans. "I bet half of you are re-considerin' even comin' back with us."

"We stand for the Liberator's goal!" They responded with fervor, snapped into seriousness.

Australia laughed again and leaned back, "Come off it. I was jokin' "

"I would not be surprised." Belarus remarked. She then directed her attention to the head of the table. "Let us get off treading around eggshells. Lietch-Lili" She corrected herself "-the welcome is nice but what is the purpose for all of this? Extravagance during these times is foolish."

The cheery expression on the young girl dimmed, "Exactly…but this dome has started to lose sight of that."

"Lose sight of wha-" Belarus was interrupted by the arrival of their meals.

"I think we would all like to enjoy our meals. I will have to explain it to all of you later," The young blonde hastily spoke in reply, obviously tensing up. Belarus took careful note. She then began to eat.

Delicious.

It had been a while since Belarus could call anything that. Edible, filling, easy to swallow down, sure. But nothing close to _delicious._ That word was for things of the forgotten days, days that might as well be in an alternate universe. Bite after bite, she scarfed down whatever was on her plate. She paid little mind to anything else for a while and so was only vaguely aware at the formal slow eating manners of their hostess.

When the table was cleared the young girl brought them into yet another room further in. Hastily, she hushed each of them inside them locked the two large wooden doors, the only entrance in. She sighed then smiled weakly at them.

"So, what did you think?"

Belarus crossed her arms, "I think you have a little more to tell us. You are holding information back."

Immediately, the young girl raised her palms up, waving them quickly as she talked, "N-not to trick you or anything. It was more for _them_ , you see. The people of this dome."

Belarus straightened her posture, "Go on."

Instead of responding the girl picked something off a side-table in the room. She pressed its power button and the recording started. It only played a little bit of the end.

_So please…Press the button. Join us. We await you._

Her recording.

"I have feeling Sophie has already told you-"

"Sophie?"

"Your greeter," she explained. "Sorry, everyone here knows everyone else. Anyways, your message has put the people of this dome in an odd tension. You have not been harmed in any way, have you?"

They all shook their heads.

"Good. We're doing well, then."

Australia put his hands in his pockets. His words were slowed. "Why would we be harmed?"

The young girl walked around to the centre to give herself space, "This dome used to be very anti-nation. They blamed us for everything. Keeping themselves in here was keeping humanity from being ruined by us again."

She looked to Belarus, "that is until your recording was brought in." She rubbed at her arms, "They fought amongst themselves for the first time in decades. For once, people have begun to question why they are the only ones able to have this kind of luxury. Some of us soon wanted freedom over self-comfort. We wanted change."

"But not all," Australia pointed out.

Lilli nodded sadly, "Not all. Germany and I were hoping that bringing you here might change their minds. Nations are still mainly humans...we make mistakes...I want us to get of here and fix it."

"Why not reveal yourselves instead?" Belarus asked.

The young blonde shook her head and for a moment glanced at her feet, "We can't. We have their trust in us...a reveal like that would only complicate things."

Belarus tilted her head a little, "What do they think you are then? Unlike Germany, you don't hide your face and I have seen the people respect you greatly around here. Surely, they have noticed that you do not age normally."

As if expecting this question, the girl immediately rolled up her sleeves in response. Along her joints were thick black tattoos of bolts, feigning that her skin was made out of welded plates. They appeared to lead all the way up to her shoulders and probably around her collarbone too where her clothes covered it up.

"They believe that I am an android created by the Inventor. When they look into my eyes, any strange feelings are explained away as a doll's eyes being lifeless. Germany has them thinking that I am an A.L hybrid with the memory of a young girl from the past. They like that."

Belarus frowned. "Tattoos disappear on nation skin within months."

"I get it retouched. Germany has programmed a robot to do it."

"You have aged though.."

This time the girl was a little more calm. She unrolled her sleeves and shrugged, "It happened before I came to the domes."

The older female nation in the room hummed, "But why make you their leader?"

"They believe that because I'm a computer, I will always be neutral in all my decisions. I _can_ be, but I have my big brother to thank for that." She placed her hand to heart, "I hope I am making him proud."

The room observed a moment of silence. Switzerland was one of the first to be murdered. Belarus watched her closely, almost wanting to reach out to comfort the other. Not because either really needed it.

"So...about the E.M.P..."India asked tentatively after a few minutes, "If the dome was intended to keep itself isolated then why was it built?" His face scrunched up as he looked like he was pondering on a few things himself.

"Emergency self-defense. We have always kept them on hand in case the Empire discovers how many of us are here. Germany has been working on a few to get them even stronger."

"How many?"

"Three. Is that enough?"

India looked to Australia who nodded and responded, "Two placed in good positions should be good to bring down their system. We can hold one back in case. Can more be made?"

"You will need to discuss that with-"

_**BOOM!** _

Belarus snapped her head towards the sound, "What was that?"

Lili paled and ran to unlock the door. She shoved it open to reveal the frantic swarm of people rushing around. Smoke wafted into their noses.

"What's going on?" Belarus demanded as she stood by the young girl who was visibly trembling.

"I...I...don't know..." She stared at the people with her blanched face.

"Lili!" Some voice called out. The person fought hard to break through the stampeding panicking people. It was their greeter, "Thank goodness you're safe."

"What happened?"

"Something exploded at the main entrance." There was another _Boom!_ "Hurry, we can't stay here. Everyone is headed to their homes to wait this out, we can go to my-"

"The vault!" Lili interrupted then began to _run_. She gestured wildly with her arms to urge the group to follow her.

At a pace as fast they could muster, they ran down the halls. Eventually, they headed out some back exit. Belarus snuck a peek behind her. A column of smoke rose from the building and formed a cloud to the top of their encasement.

"We…should be…safe…there…Only a…few of us… know …the location…let alone the password...No one can get us…there…" The young girl panted as they fled, "That…should be their…limit... We…don't…carry…weapons…I have no idea where anyone could have gotten…" Suddenly, Lili widened her eyes and stopped. "Oh no..."

"What is it?"

"I…I…have to go." She turned to their human greeter, "Sophie, bring them to the vault. I have to go the Inventor."

"Why do you need to get Ger-"

"GO! GO!"

The greeter pulled at Belarus and they were running away while Lili altered her course. While they ran, she noted that their entire group was wary of the buildings. Windows and curtains were shut when people saw them coming. Someone shouted insults at them as they passed and children were yelled to come inside.

But it was when they were forced to go on one of the main paths that they were confronted.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE NATIONS!" A group of seven individuals stood in their way. They froze. Sophie groaned as she walked in front of them, intentionally putting herself in the way of fire.

Unamused, as an adult is to a misbehaving child, she snapped at them, "What are you doing with those? Our rules state that we will never trade for weapons."

"Didn't trade for 'em!"

Belarus instantly recognized what they were holding. The Liberators tensed. She could hear one of the humans hiss quietly 'getyourhandsoffmygun'. The female nation grimaced in understanding.

"Stand down, Sophie! You too!" The group said pointing at their human companions, "Move aside! We only want _them._ "

In outright defiance, the other Liberators stood beside their greeter.

"Permission to kill them?" one the Liberators asked. Their group never needed permission from each other. Nations always placed themselves on the same level as the humans. But Belarus knew that wasn't the question being asked.

_Any enemies of the nations, are enemies of the Liberator Movement and its cause. All enemies are to be defeated effectively._

Such a question visibly shook their foes. Sophie glanced quickly at the people beside her and then turned her head to the nations behind them, pleading them with her eyes.

"No. Disable or injure, but do not kill," Australia ordered. He then addressed both India and the old woman "I suggest you both stay back." He looked at Belarus, " _You_ don't have permission to kill either."

She said nothing but made a sign not to pull out one of her knives.

He smirked, "Right."

Bang! Bang! The untrained hands of their enemies aimed at them but pathetically missed. India took the old woman out of the way, near the sidelines. It was seven against seven so it was easy to divide them up and rush forward.

Crack! Belarus made quick work to dislocate her opponent's shoulder. With a pained cry the collapsed. She casually scooped up their weapon, a handgun, without no reaction. She twirled it and watched her allies finish up. None of these humans looked like they ever had been in a _real_ fight before.

Still, the fact that they couldn't kill limited them to punches, and you'd always have to suffer pain in that scenario.

Gah! A pain bloomed from her side. The human she had taken down was not done yet. She had underestimated desperation. In her shock, she had dropped the gun, inches from her enemy. Simultaneously they both reached out for it but Belarus managed to kick away in time.

Belarus' eyes trailed the skidding gun. It stopped at India's feet and he quickly picked it up. Belarus' enemy ran past her, before she could reach out to grab his arm. Another dome member grabbed at her arms from behind, essentially stopping her from moving.

Seeing that danger was closing in, the man raised his arms in warning. The old woman hid behind him and looked away.

"India shoot him!" She tried to twist their arms around. She knew three ways to get out of this grip, but two of them involved killing the opponent. She struggled to achieve the third.

She watched helplessly as the other nation struggled to pull the trigger.

_**Bang!** _

India screamed as he was flung back and the old woman caught him. He gripped at his shoulder. Belarus gritted her teeth and finally managed to kick the human who had trapped her. They groaned. She turned to see another dome member shakily grin at their shot. A liberator tackled them down.

Now that her hand were free, she tossed one of her knife at India's opponent. Clack! The gun was dropped as the person screamed at the blade plunged into their arm. Belarus ran towards the wounded nation.

The other liberators took care of the two foes she downed and successfully tied them up with their own shirts. The icy silver-haired woman frowned at the amount he bled. She ripped one of her own sleeves to wrap around the injury.

"This is why you don't hesitate." She said firmly. She looked at the old woman, who looked shocked beyond her years, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." The other replied quietly and ran ahead to lead the group away.

Belarus watched India get up, hand on his arm, run with them. As the oldest nation among them, he should know to fire, Belarus thought, more than any of them. Being sympathetic was simply pathetic out here. Australia brought up the back of the group, his face looked bloodied up but he was alive as well.

Where they were lead to was quite a surprise. It was a dirt mound in the farm lands. The old woman brushed away at the dirt and revealed a metal door. They all helped her turn the handle, and hurriedly climbed down the ladder.

Making sure to close the door behind them, they marched forward. Their only lights down here were dim fluorescent wires lining the sides. Each of them were quiet, save for the sounds of India hissing from the pain of his wound.

"What is the Vault?" Belarus thought to ask as they walked forward more.

"It's our main storage building of pre-war goods, weapons, posters, food…almost everything is in there. Since Lili wants to keep us rationing wisely, we have the stuff locked up. Everything is distributed at the main hall so only a few of us know about it."

"You mentioned weapons?"

"When we, my generation," She smiled nostalgically,"-all came in here we were told to rid ourselves of our weapons. Not many of us had them at the time anyways. The war was only starting then. We had all expected to be out of the dome by the end of the year. Oh, look at me rambling again."

"It's fine." India smiled.

The old woman smiled back, "Only a little bit further now…ah…there it is."

Large high steel walls were embedded in this underground earth. There was small A.T.M-looking machine at the side. Probably their security system. India walked towards it, turning it on as if to see if he could figure it out himself.

"So you don't know the password?" He called out.

She shook her head and responded, "Only Lili and the Inventor know."

"Let me see." Belarus said as she walked towards it. India took a step to the side to let her see. There was a plaque above it. One sentence in French, one in English and one in _Russian._ The Russian one was exactly the same as the English one, so she assumed the French said the same thing.

_What is your favourite flower?_

With knowledge about who was in charge of the dome before, she should have guessed something like roses. Or lilies. Rather, she reached over across, ignoring India's protests, and found her fingers heading towards the 's' key. Then 'u', 'n','f', 'l', 'o'…

Beep! Click! HSSSSS!

Air from the lock leaked out. But, instead of opening up the larger doors, a much smaller door to the side was opened up. Unafraid, Belarus walked to the newly opened up place. Her group followed.

"I've never seen this open up before," Sophie confessed as she entered.

A rush of emotion assaulted Belarus as she took in the sight of the room. She collapsed onto her knees instantly. Leave it to this cursed dome for keeping _everything_ preserved. Tears involuntarily formed in her eyes. Australia was at her side in an instant.

"Natalya, what's wrong?"

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her nails dug into her hands, making little pink crescents. Snap out of it, she thought. She took a breath and avoided the brunet's eyes to look at India.

"Your wound. Look for bandages in the chest at the foot of the bed over there." She pointed then rubbed at her eyes with her arm. Belarus closed her eyes and stood up.

A desk was in the corner. The bed was exactly 13 of her steps away from it. There was an antique looking closet on the left side wall. On the opposite wall would be three shelves filled with food preservatives. A total of 52 rivets and bolts were used on all the furniture to keep them down. The door that led to the little bathroom/shower cubicle was in the furthest right corner.

She reopened her eyes. Correction. Not three shelves of food preservatives. three shelves of _books._

France and Italy were not the only ones to have created shelters. Her brother had some made as well. And she had lived in one for a total of five years. It had been fifteen years since she had left that place. She had never looked back.

Calmly, she walked to sit on the bed while she completed ignored how the people in the room, except for those helping out India, were staring at her. Australia sat right beside her.

"Hey," she croaked. She mentally cursed herself for croaking, "remember when you asked what I was doing before I joined the Liberators."

The other nation kept quiet. Those who knew in the camp, had always found it odd. A brave few had asked, not with much success. The brunet himself had used it in both jokes and in wagers when they sparred together.

When Australia was exiled, he had been drugged, put into a box(cushioned of course) and dropped from a plane into Europe. His people had forced him to leave. He was the second to join the movement, yet _she_ , whose own home country was within a few hundred miles from a camp, joined _after_ him. Belarus never liked to admit that she was most likely sleeping when she was exiled. However, there was a reason for it. The room continued to watch her.

"My brother…Russia," she added in to explain it to the humans, "He said he had made his own shelters. Smaller ones, for single person use. I only saw one but this looks exactly like it."

"…and this one that you saw…"

"-was where I lived before I joined the Liberators. He told me to hide there when the Empire began invading Eastern Europe." She finished for him.

Isolated. Alone. The young woman had never been aware of what was occurring above her, except for the occasional explosion. She looked around. The only thing this room was missing was her paper calendar where she marked down the days. Belarus had waited long.

"Hey! Anyone here?" A voice called out which broke the mood instantly. It was robotic but the tone was again familiar. Sophie got up, reopened the steel door, and walked out to bring in the A.L. It beeped as it was brought into this room.

"Message for the Liberators," it beeped. "Do you want me to play it for you?"

A red light flashed as it awaited an answer. Australia looked at her to see if she wanted to continue. She stared at her hands but remained silent.

"Play."

"Hello, Liberators. This is Lili" The sweet voice played. "Sorry about this but we can't come down with you right now. The Inventor is currently interrogating some members about what they stole from him. I need to calm down the people of the dome in the meanwhile. The E.M.P's you want are in the Vault. The password is 'Rose', though you might have figured that out by now. We will have to come down to sneak you out of here later. There should be food in there but please don't eat it all, those are our rations. Umm…yeah…I think that's it. Sorry, we failed in being good allies…"

"Message ends."

* * *

Many hours had passed in worried silence. Sophie reassured them that the group against nations were an extreme minority. That wasn't what worried them. It was the unmoving statue Belarus had become.

She didn't say a single thing, in fact, nobody say anything. The events that led up to this were very sobering for the part that had been so enamored with the dome. Her outburst earlier was still unnerving to all of them, unused to the break from her cold personality.

It was Germany who finally came down. He was surprised by the room she had opened but could not answer her questions.

"France never mentioned this…" he said as he walked around the crowded room.

Everyone else had been too distracted to explore the room. He noticed something on the desk. An envelope with a seal. It was already broken by now. A little of bit of dust gathered on it. The Inventor opened it and read it aloud.

"Hey Vanya," She flinched at the familiar address of the writer. "Surprise! I remember you were complaining about how you disliked the lack of privacy when you visited the domes. So, I built you a room near France's vault. I modeled it after the same design you gave to both your sisters' shelters. Looks exactly like your office too…Anyways, I've got to work on my red-ace trump card, you know? See you when you get back. Signed Your-"

There was a pause as the Inventor let a harsh cough and muttered under his breath 'definitely not saying that'.

The man continued, "P.s Don't forget what I said about Spain. I know you love your sisters very much and want to keep them close, but it might be better to leave them over there."

"That sounds like America," Australia remarked and regretted his words as soon as they came out.

Belarus remained silent. Everyone tensed for an outburst but none came. The nations themselves were very confused at her collective nature. Calmly, she asked for the sheet of paper and tucked it away in her bag of knives.

Certain words struck her in the letter. It lined up with that crazy old man from before…and what about Spain made it safer? That place too was quickly overrun, around the same time as her brother's invasion as well. Was there something more to it?

"Nat…are you okay?"

She looked up and snapped out of her thoughts, "Yes, yes." She turned her attention to Germany, "What is the plan?"

* * *

 

Chance smiled upon them and their plan went without a cinch. Taking the E.M.P's from the vault to where their car was being kept took a little stealth but nothing the Liberators weren't used to. They met with Lili for a short while, who handed them a box of old cookies (post-war and high-quality too) in apology. The A.L gave an oddly sentimental goodbye.

When they got into their car, the whole group sighed in relief. Although the extremist had stolen their smaller weapons and bombs, their larger ones remained there. The rest of the car was kept in good condition. Sophie operated the lift to bring them back the surface, wishing them well.

And that was the last they heard from Dome #35.

The return trip was much less hassle than the trip going there. Upon arrival, Belarus and the rest of her group immediately retired to their own rooms, exhausted from the whole ordeal. Tomorrow morning, they were all coming together, even leaders from other camps and allied states, to come up with a strategy for invasion, one of the biggest in their history. With the power of the E.M.P's, it was possible to accomplish such actions. Yet, Belarus wasn't thinking about that as she should be. She wondered if she could find any more information in Spain.

That night, she decided she would steal the car, go on her own, and find out.


	7. The Sting of Pepper

* * *

**_Let's all be selfless citizens, shall we? Selfishness is so...souring.  
_ **

* * *

Quieting her breathing while she snuck around, Belarus tried to make it to the supply storage shack as quickly as possible. Her own bag was slung over her shoulder, but she was careful to keep it from making too much noise as she moved. If she was going to go out on her own, she needed to prepare herself for what was out there. Darkness and shadows covered her well. The moon was never all that bright these days, clouded by the ever present smog.

She yawned.

Although they had arrived earlier before midday from the dome, they had all technically been up for over 12 hours, only stopping to switch drivers. Among their supplies, there should be some caffeine pills, along with the anti-rad and fake bar-codes she needed. To prevent anyone from following her, she needed to get as much distance as possible from the camp.

It wasn't as if she was needed for the meetings, she thought. Most of the discussion would at least span over a week and it would take maybe _another_ week to prepare for the actual action. Australia would be upset that she didn't stay, but he wasn't her keeper. He should know that she had priorities of her own then again... she would rather not have him talk her out of it. She made sure to be extra careful passing his own sleeping quarters.

Just as she skirted around an open field into the refuge of another building's roof, she froze up at the sight of a dim ember burning in the distance. Scotland was seated in a plastic chair, looking forlornly at the sky. Belarus rolled her eyes.

"Why are you out here?" She asked as she approached. The man jumped a little, then relaxed upon recognition.

"I'm always out here," He replied taking another slow inhale of his cigarette. Within that time, Belarus thought about all the excuses she could say to explain herself. However, he simply said, "How was Dome #35? You all looked absolutely beaten when ya came back. India looked the worst. Was it that bad?"

She crossed her arms. Then, she concluded that entertaining him for a while would throw him off her back, "It was not as terrible as we made it seem."

And so she recounted the events to him.

Once in a while he would interrupt her with, "Germany's down there? Huh, maybe I'll drop a visit when that storm's clear. Could use a good drinking partner again" and "Good to hear the wee lass is doing well. Can't imagine how bad it was for her." When she finished, he ended with a contemplative hum.

"At least, we have the E.M.P's, I suppose." He stood up and stretched, "So...mind telling me why you are heading over to the supplies."

"I was not…How did…"

"Why do ya think I park myself out here? Someone has to guard the booze. " He let out a small chuckle. "Only way to get there is through here. You're not exactly the first who's snuck out. But you are the first to actually be after something _else_ , I presume. Night raid?"

She uncrossed her arms strategically. Her hands was now closer to her knives. She could pin him down to the ground, keep him stuck there till morning, and still leave in time. "I do not do night raids anymore," she replied.

"Ah yes…" he said. "Then...is it something to do with...ya brother?" He watched her carefully as he said those last words. Her body gave it away in a flinch. "Gottcha."

"It is none of your business." She hissed. Her fingers now really stretching for one of her pockets.

Upon seeing the dangerous hint in her eyes, Scotland raised his hands in surrender, "Hey, now. Easy lass. I ain't gonna stop ya."

The young woman stopped reaching for her weapons, "Good. I will be going then." Belarus tried to walk past him, but he stepped in her way.

"I do have a couple things to tell ya."

Wary of the coming morning, she peeked at the sky. Night wasn't going to last forever and she really needed to leave soon. "Hurry, then."

"It's short and simple. No matter what ya do, your brother is not coming back, ya listening? They never will. My advice is to move on."

As if the other man had transformed into a disgusting cockroach, she narrowed her eyes at him, "I am not trying to make him come back. I understand that he is dead."

"You've been asking, lass, as if he's otherwise. India's told me."

"I have been asking and not getting enough answers, Scotland. I am only getting more."

"Are ya sure it will be enough then?"

At this she found herself pausing. The thought had not yet occurred to her, only that she currently wanted more. What if Spain did not have any answers? Should she bother?

By now, Belarus had little patience for his pestering. "Leave me alone, or I will move you out of the way with not so pleasant methods."

He sighed. "Australia's told me ya changed. Can't see where he sees that. _Can't understand what he sees at all…"_ The last bit was muttered so quietly Belarus had barely picked it up. She had no reaction to it. Regardless, he wisely stepped out of her path.

Inside the storage shack, she stuffed into her bag all that she needed. Pills, check. Two meal bags should suffice for her trip across, the rest she could get from the Empire. Old Spain, District #11, should be well stocked. For a moment her hand wavered above an eye-visor. It was constantly on the Liberator's network and could be tracked down easily. She grabbed it anyways. Better to have the extra help than not.

Next stop would be at their weapons reserves. She knew the password on that one and she needed the ammunition. When she stepped out, Scotland was still there with his disapproving look while she returned with a threatening glare.

"Are ya gonna be back within the week at least?"

She stopped and shrugged, "Maybe."

"We trust ya."

And on those words, she went on her way to collect the rest of her supplies and finish up. Twelve magazine rounds, more throwing knives, and a side note quickly scribbled in the inventory records later, she was seated inside the car. The vehicle started up with a light rumble of its engine, as if waking up from a nap. As guilt crept up on her, she reminded herself that there were other cars from their allies and other camps. Missing one would not ruin any plans.

She decided then that she will definitely be back within the week.

Belarus hadn't lied about caring dearly for the cause. Rather, she needed to get this problem sorted out to clear her head _for_ that very cause. After popping in a caffeine pill to get her started, she drove off, making the Liberator camp behind her a tiny dot in her rear view mirror.

* * *

Traveling in the wasteland at night was not something Belarus had experienced in a long time. She had forgotten how isolated and eerie the roads became. Further out in the distance, she could see bright green blobs, too far to make her worry. Only the running car was heard in the silence.

Weak moonlight shone down on her, only slightly adding to the light from the car. Stars in the night sky were now the stuff of miracles, like empire promises. Neither ever fulfilled, she thought.

Out here, it was all too easy to remember her life before the Liberators. Of all the things that never changed, it was the desolate feeling of this place. What a sight it had been for her, as someone who had been left to memorize the ceilings and walls around her, almost oblivious to the drastic changes outside. But there was no point in getting lost in those old countless days. She was not in the past any longer.

Her mind, instead, focused itself on constructing a plan for investigation in the District. Being alone was going to add to her risks, so she had to be careful. She could easily find her way into their record buildings and bribe more information out of the easy-speaking citizens. That should get her on some sort of lead. She had also packed the letter with her, in case the seal proved to be useful. Though she highly doubted that.

Empire-Tech, like the I.C.U droids, were going to be her biggest worry. The District was also bound to have more than one Kuma-bot and a league of A.L's. Without back up, she would have to go through long lengths to stay low. Knives and threats would have to be used in last measure efforts.

Hopefully, these temporary bar-code tattoos had enough credits on their accounts to last her stay. She would hate to have to spend any time trying to earn the credits for herself. No amount of answers was worth that.

The car jolted over a bump. Belarus turned the wheel quickly to avoid any more. Her eyes suddenly snapped to one side. What was that? She could have sworn she had seen a shadow move in the corner of her vision. She pressed on the accelerator, just in case.

Hours later, she found herself smiling, as a brownish-orange color filled the sky. Sunrise was still as beautiful as ever. Belarus let out a yawn. The pills were losing their effect. She parked the car over to the side of the road, watchful that it didn't get stuck in a ditch. From her bag, she pulled out a folded up blanket and moved to the back of the car. She took one last glance at the fading color in the sky, she rested her head down to sleep.

Belarus let out a hiss of pain as she accidentally rolled over to her side. The kick from the man at Dome #35 still stung. She turned over and hoped that it wouldn't bother her too much. She adjusted the blankets one more time and closed her eyes again.

She dreamed about a beach, and a warm hand around hers.

* * *

Heavy breathing and rustling was not what Belarus wanted to hear when she woke up. She opened her eyes to the sight of a Gang-Tribe member, noted from the symbol on their clothes, looking through her bag. The young woman immediately sat up, but someone from behind her grabbed at her wrists before she had any time to pull any weapons out. Shit.

"Looks like the pale ghost isn't dead." The person who held her wrists locked together, remarked.

She twisted and turned desperately. With a grunt, she managed to slip one hand out and give the person a punch in the face. He went down. She wasted no time as she cocked and aimed her gun at the one rummaging through her stuff.

She barked out her order, "Step away from that or I will blast your head off!"

Click! The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "Put away your gun or _I'll_ blast your head off," The person she had punched said right behind her. Belarus had thought she knocked him out. She felt her heart pound hard in her chest.

Belarus forced her fingers to loosen on the gun's trigger. As subtly as she could, she moved her eyes down.

The Gang-Tribes were often a hit or miss with their hatred for the nations. Depending on which one you landed, either got you the same treatment as a human, terrible, or as a nation, instant death sentence.

In addition, they were all good fighters. Had it not been for their immoral policies, they would have made great Liberator allies. Nomadic raiders were nothing compared to them, never scratching them. Liberators often avoided them if they could. Slowly, she lowered her weapon.

"There we go. That's a good girl. Now drop it."

She did so without a word.

While still keeping her eyes away from them, she tried counting the amount of people around her. No use. In an odd coping mechanism to fear, she started to let out a small laugh. People had always kept her from working alone, for fear of the Gang-Tribes. Looks like they were right after all.

"Hey! What are you chuckling about?" The gun wielder walked forward and placed the gun underneath her chin, almost biting her neck.

"Nothing," she said softly, faking submissiveness.

The gun forced her chin to lift up, "Oh really now-" Eye-contact. "… _nation!_ " Instantly the gun was pulled away, scratching a bit of her skin.

In his short moment of shock, she dropped for her gun and shot him. She did a side-roll as she sensed someone else tried to rush at her. Ding! Someone else had pulled out their own gun. She fired at a head shot at the one rummaging her stuff. Down the person went.

Gah! Belarus yelped. Her left leg, right in the thigh, had been shot and she fell to her knees. Now _that_ was going to sting for _months._ No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force herself up on her legs. Her weapon was snatched from her hands and she found herself looking down their barrel.

"Stop!" One of her opponents ordered, upon seeing her unable to get up. Belarus covered her wound with her hand and watched the other one approach. " _She'll_ want to have this nation alive before she commences the _process."_

A round of enthusiastic oh's and jeers approved. The gun in her face was lowered, and the individual backed up to laugh with their fellow members. It was as if they were a class of children, laughing as someone else was about to receive punishment. Belarus took the moment to count the number left. Four. Okay…

"...like I would let you" Belarus interrupted their elation. It was in moments like these that she was glad that her voice was cold and piercing.

Each of them gaped at her. She had pulled out one of her blades and aimed at her chest. They hadn't known about her other weapons, as they were hidden within her many pockets and the bag strapped to her leg. Steady, she warned herself.

The man who had ordered everyone, rushed to stop her. With a quick flick of her wrist, she turned the knife around and stabbed him instead. Ignoring the searing pain in her leg, she shifted her body and tossed two more blades at another two necks. She rolled again onto the floor and grabbed a gun from a dead body. Bang! The last human slumped to the ground. Utter shock was permanently etched on their faces. Belarus let out a sigh of relief.

She felt her stomach un-twist.

Belarus groaned as she slid down against the side of the car. Nation wounds no longer healed as quickly as they had before. She glared at her injury. She had spent so much time with company that she had forgotten how dangerous it was to sleep in the wasteland.

"Wonderful," she muttered darkly. "Just wonderful..." She hadn't brought any medical equipment.

A moment of catching her breath passed and then, she dragged herself to a window. There was a van parked beside, thankfully, now empty. The young woman opened the door and one of the dead bodies, the foolish man that had told them not to kill her, dropped onto the dusty ground.

Gasping at every step she had to take on her bad leg, she walked languidly over to the other car. It did not disappoint. This particular group had seemed to be doing a bit of scavenging. Just as she was about to grab their medical kit, she failed to notice the figure approaching from her side. Whack! Belarus was knocked unconscious.


	8. Mock Turtle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Decapitated Head, Stitched creature and general slight gore up ahead.

* * *

_**Trust your Empire's vision! Together we are strong!** _

* * *

Belarus awoke to the sound of something metal hitting the stone ground with a light clear hollow sound. Her eyes snapped wide open and her body jolted awake. Darkness surrounded her. Immediately put on the edge by the dark, the young woman tensed and blinked rapidly for her eyes to adjust.

 

“The nation is awake,” someone remarked loudly. The voice was indifferent, as if they were only mentioning that the sky was grey.

 

Ahead of her, there was a shadow. A door? Her hands reached out to touch it but they were held back with a clink. Cuffs had been locked around her wrists. Frustrated, she tugged at them. As she moved, she discovered there were also cuffs around her ankles.

 

“I would stop wasting your time, nation.” said the same voice. The sound was close, she realized. They must be in the room with her.

 

“Who are you?” She asked while still looking around in the pitch black room where was she trapped.

 

There was the sound of clinking metal to the left of her.  Belarus could hear little else. She looked over and saw the dark figure of a person, but there was not enough light to distinguish any features. The voice was unfamiliar and exhausted.

 

“I’m not anyone you need to be knowing.”

 

“Where am I? How did I get here?”

 

“You were tossed in here a little while ago...probably a day has passed since then.”

 

“A day?”

 

The young woman backed up, and tried to sit up along the wall. Her hand was able search her head this way. Ouch. She winced as she brushed over her tender bruise. Soon enough, she remembered what had happened. She cursed.

 

“A Gang-Tribe prison,” Belarus muttered.

 

“-And the nation hits her target. But, miss, I have to warn you...don’t call them ‘Gang-Tribe’. You do know how they are.”

 

“Ah, yes.”

 

Gang-tribes never really called themselves Gang-tribes, but no one wanted to call them by their silly real names.

 

It was ironic. Anti-nation sentiments ran high yet these groups adored making up faux-nation sounding places: Principality of insert-their-leader’s-name-here, Kingdom of some generic symbol, or simply add the appropriate amount of New’s to the closest regional area like New New France. All of them sounded utterly ridiculous to her. As if any of their declarations actually meant something. Until the war was over, true nations could not be born.

 

Life was funny that way.

 

With most of the European population gone or enslaved, those left behind were a serious sturdy bunch. Deny them what they want and they break your neck. That didn’t scare Belarus in any way, but out in the wasteland, you always had to choose your fights wisely.  Or so she was told. So, she decided to ask what it was.

 

“Their name actually fits them well so it's easy to remember," the other person replied.

 

“Go on.”

 

“Deludtopia,” the other continued.

 

Belarus had to cover her mouth to avoid laughing too loudly, “You are serious?”

 

“The first leader wasn’t a smart man apparently, thought it meant something better.”

 

“How fitting.”

 

Then the room lapsed into silence.

 

Rather than moping around and stay still, Belarus went straight to work on an escape plan. With one hand she felt around her cuffs for the keyhole while her other hand unclipped the bow from her hair.

After some relentless badgering, Scotland had started giving her a few lessons in lock picking. To be honest, she wasn’t all that good yet. She was going to be even worse in this darkness. However, better to try, than not.

 

As she fiddled with her cuffs, she could feel there were curious eyes watching her. She thought about asking the other person more questions. At least, that would fill the awkward gap. She chose to focus instead. Her eyes patiently waited for the first click.

 

For a few minutes, the only sound was of the clip working at the cuffs. But no click. When she felt part of clip threaten to snap, she stopped since she didn’t want to break it. Damn it.

 

“No good then?” The other person spoke again, tentatively. The young woman gave no reply but it was enough. There was a saddened sigh, as if they had been expecting it and couldn’t believe she had wasted her time.

 

Belarus echoed the sigh and leaned against the wall again with utter disappointment. She replaced the bow on her head, and straightened it. In a burst of frustration, she yanked at her cuffs again with a small cry. Then, she noticed an odd bump on her legs, as her hands moved to sit in her lap, right thigh.

 

“Bandages? I was treated?”

 

“They want to keep their captured nations alive, always have…”

 

Belarus raised her head to the figure again, “You talk as if you have been here long.”

 

“Long enough. Too long. What does it matter?” The other replied tiredly. Suddenly, there was the sound of several people approaching from outside. “Here they come.”

 

The sounds of keys jingled. Whoosh! Light flooded the room and Belarus was forced to squint her eyes. As her eyes quickly adjusted, she found herself gravitating her gaze over to the side. Her jaw dropped at the sight of who had been talking to her.

 

Half of their face was gone, melted away. Their teeth and jawbone was evident through the stripped away muscles. Their clothes were tattered, for what little they had. It was clear that their legs were rotting away. Their eyes were sunken, hiding any color. They were human, but barely.

 

“Disgusting isn’t it?” spoke a new comer to the room.

 

Belarus looked quickly to the ground.

 

In her peripheral vision, she saw two heavy brown boots approached her. She followed the laces up towards the face of messy and unkempt individual, a woman.  The human peered in closer with a hand forcing the nation’s face up.

 

“Well, aren’t you a pretty one?” The woman smiled. She acted like a jeweler scrutinizing the individual facets of a gem, appreciative but still objectifying. That smile became all the more terrifying.

 

Belarus grit her teeth in return and glared, throwing as much of a nation presence as she could.  She jerked her chin away from the woman’s grip. The woman only laughed in return.

 

“Cold and determined. As expected coming from the single-handed nation that wiped out six of our members.”

 

The young woman kept her silence.

 

The woman shrugged as she straightened her back,  “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be paying for that little stunt soon enough.” She snapped her fingers and someone, dressed in the most ragged clothes she had seen in the wasteland, trembled as they brought her a tray. Belarus noticed a tag clamped around the thinner individual’s wrist and recognized it.

 

A captured slave.

 

When you’re descendants of the criminal underworld, this was not a shock.

 

Gang-Tribes had been formed from well-off criminal organizations and a few escaped crooks from bombed prisons. When war came down, these organizations saw the opportunity for profit and took it. With one side controlled by a madman, it was a no-brainer to ally with the United Forces Front, everyone against Canada.

But when the United side was losing, morality never phased them. Bombed lands meant empty acres for the taking. Whoever was left, defenseless and weak, were like added bonuses.

 

Rumors said that some Gang-tribes were even in a control of a few Empire technologies that were capable of mind wiping, left overs from those old alliances. Horrifyingly, brainwashing wasn’t even close to their infamous worse.

 

But, unfortunately, the Gang-Tribes had their place in the Wastelands. As easily as the Empire could bomb Liberator camps away, there was too much of a risk for chaos  The balance of power needed to be kept, at least for now. With the Liberators obliterated, the wasteland’s rule would be harder to protect their citizens from. For as much as her group hated the Empire, they never could be as bloody-thirsty as the Gang-Tribes.

 

So, for now her escape plans had to exclude killing, if she could help it.

 

“You know…” the woman said and interrupted Belarus’ thoughts. The woman dropped all sorts of chemicals into a small vial. “We consider ourselves family around here.”

 

She shook up the vial furiously causing all the colors in it to fade away into a dark blue color. Another tool was picked up from the tray. Then the slave was shooed away and told to send for someone. Soon, the woman looked at Belarus with a much wider smile.

 

“Ah, but, you see, I’m a professional. I won’t let that affect me.” She grabbed at Belarus arm and pulled at the sleeve. In a short couple of seconds, Belarus could not understand what happening. She wondered if she was screaming as fluids akin to the flames of a thousand bombs, gushed into her veins. Her mind felt like it was elsewhere, like an observer to her own life. Except the pain, she could not detach herself from the pain.

 

“Whoops…I guess I’m not.” The woman chirped.

 

But by now, Belarus wasn’t sure about what that meant. She struggled to focus. The young woman was barely aware that her cuffs were even being unlocked. Her body was lifted up but she couldn’t react. Conscious thoughts slipped out of her grasp as the terrible liquid surged through her bloodstream, into her heart.

 

Several minutes later, when the chemicals had at last cleared from her body's system, she found herself in another room. Beakers bubbled off to the side. Books were scattered everywhere like a tornado had swept up an entire researcher’s work and they were too lazy to clean it up. Belarus lay on her side on top of a gleaming sanitized operation table was bolted in the center.

 

Then, there was the side desk.

 

All sorts of objects were displayed on it: Photographs of large groups grinning, a few devices and small little knick-knacks. But that wasn’t what spiked Belarus’ pulse. Right in the center, as if to announce itself boldly and proudly, a head floated in a jar.

 

_North Italy._

 

The woman noticed her avid staring and smiled, “You recognize him, don’t you?”

 

“...”

 

Nonchalantly, the woman reached for the jar and brought it to the nation. Belarus flinched as the little face bobbed with the movements. The other gave a smile that was shaped like a sliced orange rind.

 

“North Italy was so very nice to work with...” She sighed, “I've never seen someone fight so hard…pity what happened to his brother. I would’ve loved to have his head too.”

 

As she spoke, she stroked and cooed the jar as if it were a baby. The nation scanned the room while the other was a distracted. A single guard stood right beside her, and not liking her wandering eyes, forced her head forward.

 

“You really don’t listen to others, do you?” The woman remarked tiredly.

 

“You do not scare me.” Belarus finally replied.

 

A single finger traced the side of the jar, “That’s not my intention, nation.” She raised the jar in front of her face, “Ciao, ciao, bella! Let’sa get acquainted!”

 

“Rot in the rain,” she spat back.

 

“Awww” The woman tilted the jar to the side, “That’s not very nice!”

 

She glared back, unamused.

 

"I'll cut to the point of this little show," the woman chirped as she placed the head on the desk again. "I'm here to just ask a favour. I want you to recognize this nation."

 

Confused by the statement, the nation scrunched up their face, "Who? You?"

 

At this the woman laughed, "Oh, no, no. Even _I_ know humans cannot become personifications just like that." She whistled.

 

Bam! The room trembled. Belarus felt the ground beneath her shake. Bam! Something massive was coming down their way. Bam! Bam! Her eyes widened as she turned around and saw the creature enter through the doorway.

 

“Eurrrgh!”

 

“Isn’t my creation beautiful?”

 

Picture a rag doll. Now picture this rag doll moving all on its own. Increase its size by a hundred. Add in the fact that it was created from a mishmash of your old colleague's body parts, and you've got the nightmare that was entering the room.  

 

Belarus now knew what the operating table was for.

 

Spit drooled from their mouth. At a few rough spots of its stitching, it was clear some of it was robotic, perhaps the entire creature was being held together that way. Nice to know it wasn't actually fully alive. The eyes, which she could only guess were once Romano's according to their amber color, were glassy and didn't focus properly. Buff arms hung from lanky Italian shoulders, clearly taken from someone else other than the two brothers.

 

She felt like she should be screaming in rage and horror. Instead, the inside of her felt even more frozen over. She tried to move about in her holdings. Tsk, still no use.

 

"Why do you even want a nation to represent you?" she asked flatly. She didn't care for the answer from the insane woman. What she needed was time to come up with a plan.

 

“Having a nation mean that we are more powerful than the other groups.” The woman replied, as if it was the most obvious fact.

 

“You have successfully killed at least three here. I am surprised you think of us as powerful.” She squirmed as she spoke, finding it difficult to do so with her hands and ankles capture.

 

“What I made is an evolutionary next stage. It is in all respects, better than you." The woman's smug face made Belarus' throwing hand twitch.

 

She returned a cheeky sharp grin instead, “So what, do you want me to sign a little birth certificate?”

 

SLAP!

 

A smile shone on the woman’s face, “All nations know the words little girl. Say. Them.”

 

“No.” Belarus spat back defiantly.

 

The woman crossed her arms and shook her head. She looked to the guard. “Bolt that door. Things are going to get very loud in here.”

 

An ominous bolt clicking shut echoed.

 

In the meanwhile, Belarus forced her eyes to look back at the beast. She wondered what would happen if she recognized it. The human had probably done their research. It would become alive...and the poor creature would suffer greatly.

 

A nation made for the delusional. How pitiful.

 

Still trapped on the operating table on her side, there was little she could do. Frustrated, she bit on her tongue. Her weapons were gone. The woman was probably now filling in more of that terrible liquid into another syringe from earlier beside her. Wretched witch was humming happily.

 

Belarus let out a sigh and glanced at the ceiling above her. Hard concrete made up everything, lining the all walls, ceiling and floor. She looked to her left and then figured out what she had to do. It was going to be excruciatingly painful, but at least they wouldn’t expect this.

 

Before the human scientist could stop her, Belarus rolled down the other side off of the operating table. Despite the pain of her wound re-opening, she squirmed to the closest wall and by using the wall as support, she pushed herself up. Faint throbbing ached all over her head from the impact of the initial fall.

 

Breathe through it, she thought to herself. She could feel the blood trickle down her leg as she stood up.

 

Powered by the adrenaline pulsing in her veins, the world slowed down for the young woman. Everyone in the room rushed at her. She set her priorities quickly. Step one. Get the keys to her cuffs. Belarus turned to face her opponents.  

 

Hopping up and down along the wall, she moved over from side to side. The guard, the scientist and her "monster" were in a slight daze, baffled. When the guard made a reach for her, she ducked. With her teeth and some luck, she managed to snatch the keys dangling from his hip. Once in her possession, she threw herself as far she could and tumbled to the far corner of the room. After a little fiddling, she finally freed her wrists, and then her ankles.

 

Step two. Weapons.

 

Eying the various torture instruments beside the operating her table, she limped towards them. The mad scientist ran to them as well. There was small fight over a scalpel but Belarus quickly overpowered the human. She stabbed the blade into the woman’s forearm.

 

Blood curdling screams filled the room

 

A syringe caught the nations eye, it looked to be still filled with that searing liquid from earlier. Her hand reached for it. She should have no remorse for the enemy. Halfway though, she stopped and curled her fingers back.

 

POW! She punched the woman unconscious instead.

 

“EUUUURK!” The monster-nation roared as it saw its master fallen.

 

Quickly, Belarus took whatever was left on that side table. The humans screamed as their faces were penetrated by the sharp objects. They weren't vital wounds but enough to freeze them up, causing some blood loss. The stitched up nation-thing continued sprinting at her, as the needles, picks and other medical tools bounced off of its flesh.  Belarus had little time to breathe as it picked her up with its small hands and squeezed.

 

Her useless legs dangled below her. Her vision had moments of blacking out. She gasped and grunted while her ribs were put on the verge of breaking. Vaguely, her mind noted that in the meanwhile the humans had stopped screaming.

 

And then with that the nation-thing stopped.

 

The creature dropped her. Desperate for air, she coughed harshly and clutched at her chest. Everything hurt so much. She swore to herself that she would never leave the camp alone again.

 

“Bela...rus?”

 

She glanced up. The voice was rough, garbled and inhuman...but it was coherent. The glassy eyes were focusing a little bit.

 

“Yes?” she croaked, her body still getting used to the idea of breathing. The rest of her demanded to scream. Breathe through it, she repeated to herself.

 

“Bela...rus? It...is.” The creature said then kneeled down to peer closer. “You...alive…”

 

She sat back on her butt. She tried to stretch her bad leg and winced.

 

“Hurt?” The nation creature asked.

 

This stitched up creation was like a child. Had it not been for the pain, she would have rolled her eyes but she chose to nod instead. Surprisingly, this caused the creature to get up quickly and began rummaging through the stuff on the desk. Finding what it wanted, it hurried back to her and held out the bottle.

 

“Pills. Feel better.”

 

She glanced at it. An Empire ensign was stamped on the bottle, probably stolen, which meant it could be trusted. She uncorked it and took two, careful not to overdose. Instantly, the pain was numbed and she could get up.

 

“Thanks…” She said awkwardly to the stitched up nation-thing. “...I did not think you can talk.”

 

At this the creature furrowed, “Minds many connected.” It rubbed at their head. “Human voices gone. No orders.”

 

“So, once the humans in this room were unconscious, you regained a bit of your will?”

 

“Little. Many voices still in head. Know you, long ago.”

 

“I guess,” She murmured looking around the room for some bandages. Her’s was soaked with blood. Ah, over there! “You hear voices?”

 

“Many nations me. Veneziano, Romano, Hungary...much more.”

 

Her eyes traced the buff arms on the creature again for a second. Figures.

 

“I see.”

 

Carefully she lifted her leg a bit onto a chair and unrolled her bandage. The bullet looked to be gone and already parts of it were quickly mending. Not bad. She took the clean bandages and wrapped it tightly against the wound.

 

“You run now?”

 

She turned to the thing again. The tone was oddly soft, not curious, not hesitant, not confused. It looked down at its feet and kicked, as if shy...or nervous about asking further.

 

“Yes. “ She said briskly, setting her leg down slowly. She hissed. Keep running at a minimum, then.

 

“...can I ask favor?”

 

For once, Belarus let herself show amused surprise. It didn’t wait for her reply.

 

“I want hurt to end.”

 

The silver haired nation crossed her arms, “What do you mean?”

 

The thing clutched at its head again, “Many many voices here. Trapped. Cannot get out. Screams instead.” It pointed to the door, “Out there. Be forced to obey. Do bad things. Do not want.”

 

“But were you not created to serve these people? Is it not in your system to be their nation representative?”

 

“Do not want.”

 

Cautiously, Belarus examined the mishmash of parts again. There was no way the robot part of the thing had developed feelings. But perhaps, the nation parts were getting through…in a weird unexplainable way.

 

“I do not know what you want me to do,” she replied at last. After being helped, she rather hoped to avoid killing off the pitiful monster.

 

In response, it turned around and pulled up the hairs on its nape. A red button was melded on its neck. “Program makes body obey. Does not let mind free. Press it. Reset button. Free mind. Please”

 

“No tricks?” She said hesitant.

 

“Help you escape. Too many out there. Even for skilled lady like you.”

 

Seeing as she had no choice, she took the gamble and pressed it. The creature slumped over for a moment, then prepped up. A new voice came from it, most likely the robotic side.

 

“Hello! Would you like to reset all data in program?” It cheered.

 

She couldn’t help but smile back at the thing, “Yes. I would..except for any knowledge about this place’s workings.” Belarus still needed help to get out of here, after all.

 

“Confirmed. Anything else?”

 

“That is all.”

 

A few beeps afterwards and the grating voice returned, but more peacefully this time, “Thank you.”

 

Her face went serious, “Alright, let’s go”

 

Clearing her way was now much easier thanks to the creature. People fled and screamed as she limped their way, well aware of the hell both she and the beast would unleash upon them. Whatever guns tried to aim at her, the creature was perfect at deflecting. She quickly managed to get to the storage room where her stuff was being kept. Thankfully, when she got to it, none of the items had been separated.

 

“Go to surface now?” The creature asked, as Belarus re-strapped her knife bag to her leg.

 

“Yes, but…” She thought back to the torn apart human in the cell with her. “Let’s make a detour.”

 

Light creaked into the cell again. She limped in and watched the human’s eyes widen. Then it trembled at the sight of the nation-monstrosity.

 

“Y-you work for them now?”

 

“No,” she reaffirmed as she knelt down to unlock the man’s shackles. Yet, when they were unlocked, the human didn’t stand up. They sat there staring. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

 

“Why would I want to leave?” the scarred up human asked.

 

Belarus was taken aback, “You want to stay here?”

 

“Of course not!” the human snapped, for once showing off any major emotion. “But I’m not like you! I cannot fight! There was another human in here before, smart man. Used to be some sort of genius inventor in the United Forces Front. We tried to escape...got as far as a few miles. You know what they did to him when they had re-caught him. They made him utterly mad! They transformed me into _this._ ”

 

“But you will not get re-caught...I will send for some Liberators to take you-”

 

“They’ll kill me on sight. Look at me, nation. I’m hideous and unlike that thing beside you over there...I don’t have robot parts or nation parts to make me invincible.”

 

“But-”

 

“Just go!”

 

She took another good look at the human. The scars that were on their face, the torn off flesh, the rotting limbs, all of them were not as bad as the damage inside. What she stared at now was an empty shell. The way the other had shouted at her, even that sounded broken beyond repair. Belarus took a hard swallow, turned, and left.

 

Belarus was finally seated in a stolen car, driving off towards the district as before. Her companion, the nation made of all sorts of parts, was driving. The vehicle was big enough to allow for it and she had to put less strain on her leg. The creature will drop her off as nearest to the district as it could then hide and wait to pick her up later.

 

“Why go to Spain?” It asked. “Place is empire’s now. Personification enslaved too.”

 

She pulled out her letter. The creature glanced at it, “That..seal…”

 

“You know it?”

 

The creature nodded, “One mind mine has seen it before. Romano, think. Something empire related.” It scrunched up its face it tried to focus, “Voices are shutting up to let speak. Secret entry to somewhere. Place safe. Tried to get me there...did not make it.”

 

“Safe? Inside the empire? Were you going to surrender?”

 

“No, no. Not it. Maple bear not like Spain. Avoid if he can.”

 

“He avoids Spain? Why?”

 

The thing grimaced and shook its head, “Can’t say. Mention of Maple bear anger other voices. Too much screaming.”

 

She sighed but thanked the thing. Her plan remained the same, stay low in Spain, find answers to her questions. It seemed however, less of a dead end as she thought.

 

“Wait…” she said, suddenly feeling very grateful for the this new information. “What do I call you?” Part of her felt guilty calling the other creature, a thing, an it.

 

There was a pause. “Never had real name before. Monster, creation. No name. Too many voices have name. Me. none.”

 

“Would you like one?”

 

The other nodded happily. She frowned thinking for a moment. The nation-cyborg...thing ...it was made up of different parts.

 

“Parts? Stitches?” She suggested, frowning at herself. The young woman had never really been all that creative in thought.

 

However this didn’t dampen the creature's enthusiasm for a name. In fact it appeared to be talking to itself in some sort of debate, inspired somewhat by her ideas, “Greece voice...that's too long...Loudest voice Italian…I...like. He suggested Pezzi...means 'pieces' in Italian.”

 

She shrugged, “Okay then. Pezzi it is.”

 

Pezzi smiled for the first time she had seen them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really know any Italian, but the name sounds better than ‘pieces of peace’ or anything else I could come up with.


	9. Croquet to the Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For consistency, I will now refer to Pezzi as a ‘mock-nation’, since his character appearance was inspired by the Mock-Turtle in Alice in Wonderland.

* * *

**_I am not a ruler, a Red King covered in blood. I am your leader, here to give clear-headed logical order._ **

* * *

"Bela....rus? Belarus?"

 

The mentioned woman groaned as she pushed herself up and stretched. She whizzed her head around, remembering the last time she had woken up. After a few moments, she let out ya relaxed sigh, seeing as there was no imminent danger. Pezzi was looking at her with a pleading and confused look. In their hands was the electronic visor.

 

“Who’s...driving?” She asked as she let out one last yawn.

 

“Stopped. Side Road.” The mock-nation replied then raised the visor higher, "Started talking. Asking for you.”

 

A familiar voice was on the other side, “Hey? Anyone there?” She groaned and reached for it. Pezzi eagerly gave it to her and left to give her privacy.

 

“You have five minutes before I hang up.” She said as she slid the visor over her eyes and pressed a button. "I am not coming back until I am done.”

 

“As pointed as your blades, as always Belarus,” Australia quipped back.

 

She bit her lip. He sounded annoyed. “Get to the point or I’m hanging up.”

 

“You know…” There was a sigh, “I should be the one rude and bitter. We have the biggest attack to plan against the Empire and you’re runnin’ off on your own. You even helped yourself to supplies right when we need to stock up!” Another sigh, heavier this time. “Can I have a reason?”

 

“Do you want a real answer?”

 

“ _Please_.”

 

She bit her lip again. The young woman could just picture up him leaning against the wall, shaking his head, while a radio receiver was clutched in his hand. She knew better than to try lying.

 

“It is about my big brother. I have questions. I want answers.”

 

“Is it because of the letter at the dome?”

 

“A small bit…”

 

There was a long pause. The brunet's voice raised steadily when it returned, “And you had to wander into Gang-Tribe Territory lookin’!?”

 

“How did you-”

 

“Trackin' software is installed in every hacked Liberator visor. I’ve been calin’ you since then. You worried me.”

 

“I can take care of myself.” She replied, hoping that small smirk on her face wasn’t being heard in her voice. It probably was. She forced herself to frown, “Gang-tribe was a bad detour, but not completely a waste. I have made a new ally, Pezzi."

 

"Pezzi? Who is-...no no no! Don't shift the focus, Belarus."

 

She flinched at his hardening tone, “I am only mentioning it.”

 

There was the sound of someone whispering a countdown slowly. She waited, but no other word was said.

 

“Is this it? Are we done?”

 

“Belarus...do you even believe in the cause anymore?”

 

She brushed a strand off her face, " I still do.

 

“You’re not very convincin’”

 

“I am still dedicated to the cause.” She responded back firmly again. Her hands clenched into fists, “I...I just need to... to do this...It is important to me.”

 

There was the sound of a wall being hit, “You’re really goin’ through with it?”

 

“Of course. I have made that clear-”

 

“All you’ve made clear-,” Australia interrupted, struggling to hold in his anger, “-is that you’re exactly what I thought you were. Selfish.”

 

“I am not-”

 

“Do what you want. Hope we can survive without one of our strongest assets.”

 

“Australia, I-”

 

“Our five minutes are up. Scotland’s told me that you plan to come back in a week. We will talk this out later.” His voice became quieter, but no less angry. “Ready your defense.”

 

She heard the click that ended their line.

 

Belarus took off the visor slowly. She covered her face with her palm and took a couple breaths. She then told Pezzi to continue driving. The mock-nation wisely asked no further questions.

 

The drive to Old Spain was boring but she chose not sleep. Her hand brushed against her wound. She looked down. At least, her leg was healing.

 

The young woman got up from the back and sat in the co-driver's seat. Her cool eyes watched the empty horizon.

 

* * *

The next time they stopped over, it was even less pleasant. Belarus, now seated at shot gun, was thrown forward, as the car came to a sudden halt. She winced as she rubbed at her bruised forearms. Pezzi screamed and clutched their head.

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, raising her hands to calm the mock-nation.

 

“Voices... Human... Coming.” Their panted heavily.

 

She cursed and gritted her teeth, “Move over. Now. I’ll drive.”

 

“Leg...okay?” The mock nation asked, already getting out of the seat. Belarus chose not to reply and slammed on the acceleration as soon as she sat down. She looked in her rear-view mirror. Something very fast was approaching them. She switched gears.

 

“How did they recover so quickly?” She spat out.

 

“Not killed. Is why.”

 

Her knuckles blanched along the wheel.  Moments ago, the district’s signal could already be picked up by her visor. They were so close. The young woman shivered as she felt ghostly hands circle around her neck.

 

“Go to the back, pull the blanket over your head and lie there.” She ordered the other. “We have to take refuge in the Empire.”

 

The mock-nation nodded, still scratching furiously at their head. Her eyes glanced at her wrist. Luckily, she had been smart and put it on in anticipation.

 

Blurred scenery whizzed past her, but she kept raising her speed. Those damned cars in her mirror were not getting any smaller. With every upcoming obstacle, her hands twitched to get out of the way, but not too much to avoid swerving too far. They jostled and bounced with the hard road, unable to avoid everything.

 

Only a little more. If they hit a large bump at this speed, they would flip. She gripped the wheel tighter. Better risk that, than recapture though. Besides, there was one more trick she had.

 

“Arrrgh! Getting closer. Mind. Shaking.” The mock-nation shouted.

 

“Hang in there!”

 

The vehicles nose lifted a little. She grit her teeth more, hoping for something. The entire car lifted off the ground for a couple seconds. She sped up again when it landed with a hard thud. 

 

Buildings began to sprout on the horizon. So close. Only when she saw the large balls of light emerge from the buildings did she think to slow down. She was tossed forward a bit as she drastically lessened their speed. Finally, she thought, relieved. Those following her continued at their speed, oblivious to their impending doom. Her heartbeats pounded like heavy bass drums in her ears.

 

BOOM!

 

The light hit the cars following her and they were sent flying in flames to the ground. She smiled in relief and continued her slow pace. Liberators had learned quickly that the Empire, like a wild untamed beast, reacted harshly to quick movements. To survive, one needed to approach it as a friend.

 

She continued driving at a calm speed as she approached the front entry gate. Two Kuma-bots stood on either side. A guard watched her approach, an eerie smile permanent on their face.

 

“Welcome to District #11 of the Maple Ensign Empire. Long live our benevolent leader! Please show your barcode for entry.” She flashed her wrist and the guard looked at it with their blank eyes and raised a scanner to her. There was a flash of green and she was let in.

 

Just as she thought she was in the clear, another groups of officers stopped her, “We have to perform a security search.” They all smiled as equal wide as the gatekeeper.

 

“Of course, sir.” she replied as flatly as possible and turned the car off.

 

Inwardly, her mind screamed. They didn’t have these sort of checks at the northern districts! She grabbed her bag and gave a firm glance at the mock-nation underneath the blanket, hoping that the creature keep quiet. Two officers got in.

 

The young woman deliberately stalled in giving up her bag to the anticipating officer. It wouldn’t take them long to find something odd. Meanwhile, she kept an eye on the other one checking around.

 

The Kuma-bots were at the front entrance, but she didn’t have any back-up for a solo attack. Belarus bit her tongue as the officer went over to the back. She hoped the blanket would be enough to cover him.

 

“Ah ha!” cried the officer checking her bag. She snapped her head back to him. The young woman remained frozen until the human continued, “Let's go! We have no need to check her!”

 

She looked at what he was holding. It was the letter. He hadn't opened the folded document, but it seemed that he had glanced at the seal.

 

“Wha-” She began to ask but the officer already handed her stuff back.The other officer stopped his hand from reaching for Pezzi and followed him off the vehicle. Though relieved, she held back a sigh.

 

“Mr. Carriedo is in the far building down the street.” The officer said before giving her a nod and moving on. Shocked, Belarus remained there for a few more seconds before driving off.

 

She drove for a few minutes until she reached the building at the end. Like an ant looking up at a giant in awe and fear, she stared up the skyscraper. It was designed sleek and futuristic, as was normal for all Empire buildings. Yet, it somehow reminded her of medieval castle tower.

 

All the windows were blacked out and the entrance itself wasn’t anywhere in sight. It was as if the builders had decided to build an extra floor too high. Near the top there was balcony, but she couldn’t make out what was in it. The building stood in the form of a cylinder rather than a prism. At the front, there was a sign. “Carriedo Residence” it read.

 

“Is safe?” Pezzi asked as they peeked from underneath the covers.

 

“Yes,” she replied, still looking at the massive building, “You will have to stay in here though, for the meantime.”

 

“Okay.” The mock-nation yawned. “Voices calm. Tired. Sleep now.” It ducked underneath the covers again. A light snoring was soon heard.

 

Looking through her mirrors, Belarus watched for people. It was surprisingly empty on this block. Deep within her gut, a heavy feeling grew. Cautious, she put on her visor and  ordered it to scan the building.

 

_“Scanning...Scanning...Scanning..Scanning cancelled.”_

 

The young woman sat up from her seat and pressed a button, “What? No, Repeat scan.”

 

_“Scanning...Scanning cancelled.”_

 

Belarus repeated this another five times. Nothing. She eyed the building again.  It wouldn’t hurt to at least look around for the front door. She went to the back, carefully walking to avoid disturbing the mock-nation, and slung her bag over her shoulder. Once she stepped out of the car, she gave the name plate another look over.

 

Carriedo wasn't a familiar name to her.

 

She put her hands in her pockets and walked around. Part of her deeply regretted to have left behind her large coat. She felt vulnerable out here. After her second circle around, she turned on the visor and commanded it scan.

 

It didn’t obey, however it did cause something else to beep. Out from the building a small little machine popped up. A constant red-light shone from it. An old bubble screen glowed above the scanner. She placed her wrist in the beam of light.

 

The machine made an obnoxious rejection noise. The screen flashed an ‘X’. Not to be dismayed, she thought back to the security check from earlier. She pulled out the letter and showed the scanner the wax seal.

 

Ding!

 

The machine and the screen melted back into the building and ground. Suddenly, two large steel hands grabbed at her. Before she could scream or make another sound, she brought dangling above the ground. One of the blacked-out windows opened up and tossed her inside.

 

Soft light shone above her as she glanced around her small room. Elevator music began to play. There were no buttons, just another ding. She watched floors light up and go, as she was brought all the way to the top.

 

When she reached there, the steel doors opened. An ever cheerful Spain greeted her.

 

“Oh, Belarus! Come in. Come in.” The spanish man gushed and yanked her inside. “Would you like some cake, churros or coffee maybe?”

 

She gaped at him as she was led to a couch. The man was the same as ever, not even wearing an Empire-issued uniform, which should cost him severe punishment. Instead, the man donned an oversized t-shirt with a smiling tomato on it. He rushed over to the kitchen despite her lack of response.

 

The room itself was shocking. As an ex-nation of the Empire, it came with a great amount of perks. Yet here, she saw a room she would have seen post-war, post-Disaster.

 

It had modern art on its walls. It had tacky vacation souvenirs displayed on a shelf. A couch with several other cushioned chairs surrounded a rug in the living room. There was a collection of stuffed turtles lining the far balcony.

 

If some luxury level two place made her feel like she had time-traveled, then this made the wasteland seem like a dream, a grotesque figment of her imagination.

 

“It is so nice that you’ve visited. Your brother, is he doing well?” 

 

She glared in the kitchen's direction, "He’s dead.”

 

The man continued to reply happily, “He’s fed? Oh well that’s good!” He returned with a mug in hand. “Here, have some coffee.”

 

She took it, still shocked beyond all understanding, “I said. He’s dead.”

 

“In bed? He’s sick? Then tell him, I wish him better health then.”

 

“What’’s wrong with you? I said he’s dead!”

 

“He's all red? That is the symptom of a fever, Belarus," he mused thoughtfully. "You should have someone look over him."

 

At this point, Belarus stood up, ready to attack him. He was doing this on purpose!

 

“No use arguing with him, miss.” Said another voice behind her.

 

The young woman stopped herself from pulling out a knife. She turned her head to the sight of a mirror, and stared into the eyes of a reflection that was not her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: At last, enter in the 2p!’s! Next time: Wonderland isn’t all that dark.


	10. Painting Red Roses White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Ramble:
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the concept, 2p!'s are alternate personalities for the nations based on the alternate colorings by Himaruya. Since most of their designs look darker and more sinister, their personalities are often portrayed darker, crazed and "opposite" from the originals. Most of the following characterizations are inspired by popular tumblr blogs I follow, but I really wanted to explore further reasoning to this alternate world.
> 
> Rather than just make their world harsher, or the nations themselves evil by nature, I worked with the concept of "What if the nations didn't care about humans at all? What if they denied that part of themselves completely? They would feel the wage of war but not participate. They would care about their lands but only in a territorial way. What if nations themselves were NOT patriotic?" Sounds silly...I guess...

* * *

**_Let go of the past, it is behind us._ **

* * *

 

Tentatively, almost afraid of the moment shattering away, Belarus raised one of her hands.  The mirror figure did the same. She turned her head to the side and it was copied. When she opened her jaw, a few words came out from the glass.

 

"Please, stop."

 

It caught the woman off guard and she took a step back in response. Somehow this broke whatever spell was connecting them together. Her reflection hunched over, letting out a sigh while shivering slightly. Belarus snapped her head to ask Spain for an explanation but the man was already gone, probably leaving when she was distracted. She slowly turned back to the reflection.

 

"Hi," said the figure, sheepishly waving.

 

"Who are you?" She demanded curtly. “Are you another empire technological tool?”

 

They stared at each other. The mirror showed her the face of everything Belarus wasn't. The other woman's face was softer on all its edges, smoothed to tempt another hand to caress it. Her eyes were not narrowed into suspicion, or weighed down by dark bags from sleepless nights. Her bangs were kept away from her face, pinned up by a few hair-clips. That smile, was so trusting.

 

Her voice, she now realized, was exactly like hers except the way it was used made it feel like it belonged to a stranger.

 

"Um...how do I say this...I am...well...you, from an alternate universe"

 

"Bullshit. What are you really?"

 

The other woman flinched, and looked down. Instead of replying, her hands were playing with a frill on her pastel dress. Belarus continued pressing her questions but to no avail. The other woman clamped up and ignored her, seeming to be waiting out her bombardment. With a roll of her eyes, Belarus gave up.

 

The voice, was not quite like hers, spoke at last, “Are you done?”

 

Unamused, the young woman turned away, deciding that now was a good time to go exploring. As if sensing her intent, the reflection coughed harshly when she took a step. Belarus returned her attention back to the figure.

 

“I wouldn’t go into the other rooms,” she chimed innocently.

 

“And why is that?”

 

“...why are you even here?”

 

“That is my own business.” Then she smirked, “Or if you _are_ me...you’ll already know.”

 

“Your big brother. " Belarus frowned while the other continued, "Tell me, what is it like to waste so much effort chasing the man who ruined your life?”

 

“Brother is kind.”

 

“Kind? Hah! He doesn’t appreciate anything that you do for him, he constantly avoided you and...hm….he left you locked up in a shelter to rot the rest of your days waiting.”

 

She glared in return, “You do not know anything."

 

“I  _am_ you.” The reflection raised her hand, “I so badly want to make you slap yourself and free you from this longing for that _monster_.”

 

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT BROTHER!”

 

She tossed the knife and shattered the glass. All it did was distort the image. Belarus expected her 'other self' to start laughing, mock her for her outburst. But, instead they remained silent. Their eyes, now broken apart into several pieces, were colder and darker than anything she could ever muster herself; They pitied her.

 

“You’ll learn eventually.”

 

The other woman vanished.

 

Unable to simply stand there, Belarus stepped towards the balcony and the collection of turtles first. She wanted to figure out why there wasn't a breeze coming from the open window. Embroidered faces looked on, as she let her hands touch the railings. She looked down below, seeing the car where she had left it. Her hand waved at the open air in front of her. Not feeling anything odd, except for the lack of wind, she was about to return inside the building when she halted her leg from stepping on something.

 

A turtle had fallen down in the middle. With a shrug, she placed the turtle on the shelf and continued.

 

The room next to this one was the open kitchen. Again, the woman couldn't find anything odd about it and a bit of her was surprised that Spain wasn't in here. The blender was even an obsolete electric model, as shiny as it would have been its popular days. Her hand traced the granite counter as she left. In the corner of her eye, caught another turtle peeking out of the cabinet. She snorted. He must've placed those in every corner of this house, she thought.

 

There was a second exit inside the kitchen, which led out into another hallway. Three wooden doors faced the other on each side. She turned to her right,expecting a wall, but discovered there was a door that led to the stairs. She peered down the hall again. Recalling the height of the building, she highly doubted that it didn't have another elevator like earlier to access the other floors.

 

Not wanting to waste any more time speculating, she walked forward. Her knives were kept away in case she bumped into Spain. In here, the woman was still at the mercy of the Empire, and angering her friendly host was the surest way to get in massive trouble. Belarus had enough playing captive.

 

The first door on the left side was locked. The second opened up to a bathroom. The one across that was a bedroom, unused and well kept.  Third on the right side, there was something much more interesting, a room filled with dozens upon dozens of paintings. Belarus took a closer look inside.

 

Faces and bodies were hashed up and contorted into abstract disturbing shapes, with colors that contrasted angrily. As she went further and further, she felt as if the images were screaming at her, furious for her trespassing. Red eyes glared at her through the pitch black of their canvas trappings. Her own eyes searched around for an answer in the madness. She found it, in the sole calm image in the center.

 

“Ukraine?” She gasped.

 

She ran to it, almost seeking refuge in the very painting itself. Watercolor lightly outlined the figure. Framed up to the bust, the portrait directed its gaze right at her. Her older sister's eyes were in drooped shapes but the structure of her shoulders were strong, as she had always been. Those cheeks were rosy, in almost equal surprise Belarus was there.

 

Having not expected _this_ , her body trembled slightly. However, Belarus didn’t cry. She continued staring at the realistic capture her sister. It was at this point she heard a cough behind her.

 

Another mirror had been placed behind her. That infuriating version of herself returned.

 

“Don’t you miss her?”

 

Belarus returned a glare over her shoulder, “Yes.”

 

“Then why are you not crying?”

 

It was Belarus’ turn to refuse to reply. She continued gazing at the face, a stronger longing building up within her. She then did the most irrational thing that she had done in years. The young woman closed her eyes and reached to touch it, pretending that her sister was there.

 

And her sister was, at least in her mind. That skin was soft, reassuring to her that everything was going to be okay. Her sister’s callous hands would reach up to hers, strong in their hold to keep her in check. Those tears, that Belarus would tease were like endless rivers, would gently trickle past the side of her hand.

 

She could hear her voice say…

 

“Be strong.”

 

The intrusive sound made her snap open her eyes. Her sister was gone and all she could feel was the texture of the canvas. She pulled her hand away quickly. With a deadly look in her eyes, she whizzed her head around to yell at the reflection. But her other self wasn’t there anymore. Neither was the mirror.

 

In its place was another turtle, a ceramic figurine, with a drunken sort of expression. She picked up the turtle and was surprised to hear it start laughing. She shook the object harshly, causing it to giggle louder. Startled, she dropped it. It clanked on the ground but it didn't break.

 

“Awww...you’re so cute!” A voice on her left cooed.

 

The mirror had been moved over to the left, and a busty older woman had taken or other self’s place. She was swinging around a glass bottle and hiccuped. The top two buttons of her blouse had been undone, unabashed by their exposure.

 

“The original will always be the cutest,” The woman said as she winked at her. “But you come very very close.”

 

“You...are…”She began to say.

 

There was a thud and her other’s self voice finished, “The other version of your Ukraine.”

 

Belarus looked back now there was another mirror placed there. Another turtle, sewn out of felt this time, at its foot. She picked it up. Footsteps echoed closer to her and she raised her head away from the turtle.

 

“Oh, there you are Belarus!”

 

“Spain, what is going on here?” She said pointing to the mirrors, the paintings and the turtle in her hands. On seeing the object in her hand, the brunet’s happy face dropped. It was grim, just as she had expected to be. But not this way...

 

His response was cracking with grief, “They’re all gone Belarus. All of them...Portugal...France...Prussia...the Italy brothers…Belgium…THAT BASTARD BURNED THEM ALL!”

 

“S-spain?” Belarus backed up.

 

“...and...and...I was next….he was going to get his cold cold hands on me... It isn’t safe anymore...America...he...he didn’t give me the weapons in time. I was supposed to get that shipment last week.”

 

“What are you talk-”

 

Her other self figured shushed her and raised a finger to her own lips. She gestured that Belarus listened.

 

“And when Russia was defeated...I knew that I was so close...so close…but they saved me...”His face returned to its cheery self again, but oddly more creepy this time.

 

Spain ran forward and grabbed her wrists. She dropped the turtle resembling her other self and let out a yelp from the pain of his tightening grip. The Spaniard’s voice was more hysterical than before. She struggled at freeing herself from his strong desperate hands.

 

“They can save you too! You’ll feel like everyone’s returned. No one died in that other world. They were better prepared than us. The King could not get them and our Leader hates being around them. You can forget the wasteland, the empire, everything, if you stay. ”

 

“Let me go,” Belarus hissed, knocking the man’s feet beneath him. He let go of her hands but his rambling didn’t stop.

 

He was flat on his back but still he reached out to her, “Don’t you want that? You can live here in happiness! With your brother too!”

 

“DON’T YOU CALL FOR HIM!” Her other self screeched, now significantly paler.

 

The other Ukraine tsked, “You’re too hard on your brother.”

 

“HE TRIED TO MARRY ME OFF FOR A BAG OF GOLD!”

 

“A _long_ time ago. Get over it.” The woman directed her gaze to the darker colored Belarus, “You know it’d be really nice if you did stay here. We could use another hand around here. Hey, Spain, be a dear and get a her a turtle too.”

 

“Don’t…”her other self pleaded but then a large bottle was tossed at her. She ducked, frowned at her sister, then at Belarus. With a sigh, the other Belarus disappeared again.

 

As if nothing had happened, the man got up on his feet and ran out the door. She heard a group of keys jangle, a door clicked, silence, then another click. When Spain returned, he had a small felt turtle in his hands without a face on it. He shoved it at her, squishing it against her nose.

 

And in the moment time slowed down. Her shoulders relaxed as she took the felt into her hands. Her mind was hazy, light and bubbly. The corners of her lips were lifting, way beyond her control at this point. Her surroundings blurred and her heart beat excitedly, as if she were on a whirlwind ride in a wagon, traversing the open countryside and forests.

 

But an image of the wasteland, in all of its injust glory, flashed within her mind. She thought of the human Liberators she fought with, of India and Scotland, of Dome #35. She gasped, as if someone had punched her in the gut. Belarus had a promise keep. Her hands pushed away the turtle, completely determined to drop it.

 

Then another rush of images flooded her mind. Her brother. He was smiling, laughing, _alive_. Her body began to throb, alerting her to all of the pains that had been inflicted by the wasteland’s cruelty, the bruise at her side, that gunshot wound in her thigh that caused her to still limp to one side. In the empire, they would be able to heal her completely.

 

If she lived here...it wouldn’t be so bad. The Leader didn’t even come around here. It wouldn’t be like she was adding to anyone’s problem. She wasn’t participating in anything. She needed this break. She was just so...so...sick and tired of fighting…all those people she killed. Her hands needed to be clear of all this red.

 

Belarus brought the stuffed felt creature closer to her chest, but it hovered before touching it.

 

A memory of a voice shouted at her.

 

_“you're exactly what I thought you were. Selfish.”_

 

That equally determined Australian, head-strong, quick on his feet, popped into the forefront of her mind and gave her his angriest look. A hint of hurt glinted in those green eyes. Her breath hitched. She turned her head away.

 

Her gaze met with portrait of Ukraine from earlier.

 

Her resolve to stay with the Liberators melted away again. She brought the turtle to her chest. Family came first. She gave Spain a nod of confirmation. Before she could understand what was happening, blackness surrounded her.

* * *

 

She awoke to the sound of birds chirping, like the brand new day of spring. Belarus smiled and pressed a button to stop the alarm. She looked around her plain bedroom, a guest room among many that Spain had prepared and maintained.

Four days had passed since Belarus had decided to join them. Every day more of her memory slipped away and she couldn't have been happier. Her other self explained that Belarus could affect the control of their bodies meanwhile on her side, they could control her mentally. The turtles made it easier to do and you could track who was in the room. Belarus didn't understand much of what she said.

Turns out, the sole thing that made their universes different was how the nations chose to act. In her world, nations felt a sense of duty to their people and governments, an undeniable need to protect and interact. In their world, they didn't care at all and lived away from humans. Their fights were always personal and territorial. As a result, they were more wary of each other, and so noticed right away when their Canada was acting bizarrely.

She had met with the other version of Russia here. He was much more gruff and unfriendly than her brother. Belarus didn't mind. At least this one wasn't afraid of her. She followed all of his orders, placing whatever he wanted in front of his turtle, which would somehow disappear into his world. Thinking about it made her head hurt, so she didn't.

Other nations from that other world were here too. The other England could cook incredibly well but she was warned not make him angry. Apparently, the war had made him master poisons and he had habit of practicing with people he hated. The other Italies were...strange. One of them wanted to fix her wardrobe, and the other had a thing for knives too. She didn't like them as much. The other N.A brothers were barred from coming here.

"Do you really want to stay here?" Her other self asked as she got ready that morning.

Belarus played with the bow on her head. It seemed...tacky now. Maybe she should remove it. "I make my own choices."

"I know how you truly feel."

Belarus sighed. Her other self had been acting like this since she had agreed to stay. "I have chores to do. Go away."

"Don't you have a promise to keep?"

At this, the icy woman stopped smiling and gave her mirror a glare, "I am tired. Go. Away." She finally took off her bow and placed it on the side-table.

Her other self shook their head, "...as if it's that easy…"

"Can't you travel anywhere in our world as long as there's reflective glass? The others can."

"I can only go where you last were…" the other whispered then vanished. Belarus shrugged it off. A tiny bit of her chest hurt, painfully so. She gripped her hands tight. No, she was...hungry! That's it! That's all it was.

Life was so blissfully peaceful here and she never wanted to to give it up. Her family was with her after all. That's all that ever mattered to her.

Right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn't too rushed. Everything after this is hopefully a lot easier to write, since they're more planned out.


	11. Off with YOUR head, Queen of hearts.

 

* * *

_**Remember, we are all heroes to our own tales.** _

* * *

Belarus glanced up at the oven timer. Another fifteen minutes. She took in a deep breath. Those tart crusts smelled wonderful. She looked over to the cheery-faced turtle waiting at the stove, then at any reflective material in the room. Still nothing.

That ginger-haired man should be back soon, she thought, as she stretched her arms forward. She had already finished with her chores earlier this morning. She rested her chin on the kitchen table and stared ahead. One of her hands from underneath her, reached out and petted her own turtle. Foggy delight clouded up her mind and she began to absentmindedly hum the notes of some lost melody.

The building was relatively empty today, as Spain and the other nations had stately work to handle. Not that she understood what the words "state" or "empire" meant anymore. All she knew was that her family was here, and she was supposed to take care of them.

She hoped Brother would return soon. Boredom was starting to get the better of her.

"What are you singing?"

She looked around and saw the strong eye-browed man had returned. His image was reflected on the countertop. Their turtle had moved over to the stove top and, as if there was an invisible person standing there, the silver pans were pulled out. The pastries were set down carefully, but the man's eyes remained on her. For a moment she was lost in their mesmerizing color. It was almost as if the pupils themselves were swirling. The other gave a flourish of her hand to signal her to speak and she broke from the trance.

"I...I do not really know..."

She placed her hands to her throat and hummed the off key notes again. It sounded calming and sweet...but from whom did she hear it from? Her mind began to throb again and she reached out for her turtle, allowing it to strengthen the soothing haze from earlier.

"That's too bad. It was really pretty sounding, like a lullaby."

"I suppose so." She shrugged, "Is my Brother back?"

"No, our w-_-_-_-_ m-_-_-_-_-_-_ isn't over yet. Actually, I should be going back. Let these cool and don't let anyone touch them." He waved his index finger a bit, "Not. A. Soul. Do you hear me?"

She nodded and the other man, satisfied with her answer, was instantly gone. Her mind wandered towards what else there was for her to do. Cleaned the house, check. Watered the plants in the garden on the seventeenth floor, check. Cleaned the mirrors in the holding room, check.

What else was she responsible for? Belarus breathed in deeply and thought further, she was supposed to be out there...fighting...fighting because this wasn't her real-

Click, click, click, click! She snapped her gaze to the floor. Her eyes narrowed, searching. She could've sworn she heard- Click, click,click,click. She caught a flash of metal gleam as something scurried around the corner. Instinctively, she followed it.

In the hallway she caught a glimpse of the figure's shadow, but it quickly ran to hide in the first room on the left side. To her surprise, the door was left slightly ajar. During her time here, she had never been allowed to enter that room. Spain had told her it was just a junk storage closet and the pain in her head would increase if she tried to press further. But now, without anybody to stop her, her hand eagerly reached out to the knob.

Ignoring the slight throb in her brain, she went inside. Instead of the closet she was expecting, it was a large spacious room. Most of the place was dark, with low lit computer screens bathing her from the sides. Many turtles, in various states of completion, covered every surface of the room. Each of them had a printed label taped to their bottom. But, as she was about to get close enough to read one, someone yelled for her from the kitchen.

Jolted from her curious excitement, she ran out. Closing the door behind her without a second thought. She didn't belong in there anyways.

"I told you to watch them," the man stated, glaring at her with crossed arms. Two of the tart pans had been overturned, spilling and crumbling its contents. She bit her lip as she tried to come up with some reasonable explanation, but she couldn't find one. Sheepishly, she scratched the back of her head.

"Uh..."

"No tarts for you!"

She let out a sigh and dragged herself out of the room before pans started flying. Belarus tried to re-enter that room of screens, but it was locked again. Another sigh. After a little wandering down the halls and floors, she decided to take a nap until her brother returned. There was nothing else better to do. As she slept quietly in her room, she dreamt of the soft shuffling of cards and the wails of an ocean gone into turmoil.

By the time she awoke, her brother had finally returned and his voice was already calling from the mirror room.

"BELARUS!"

She jolted up and ran to the stacked bottles of alcohol in the kitchen, knowing instinctively that this is why he was calling her. However, as she dashed down the hall in half-sleepy panic, something tripped her. The bottle rolled across the floor but as she was getting up, something large had placed a pillowcase over her head and dragged her away. They locked her arms behind her in a firm grip. The other hand kept the covering over her tight so her screams were muffled away by the linen.

"Don't suffocate her!" Some robotic voice beeped out.

"Sorry," a gruff voice replied. Their hold on her linen covering loosened.

"Okay...only a little further and..."

Suddenly, the weightlessness of free-falling took over her. She found herself clutching to her captors in fear, but soon enough they reached the sturdy ground with a large thud. Whoever was carrying her had very strong arms as they kept relatively level. When they finally stopped running, she was set into a chair. A rope began tying her hand behind her. She squirmed around but more hands kept her steady.

"...Be careful with her..." another familiar voice began to say. Where had she heard that? She couldn't remember...

"This was your idea, miss."

There was a tsk and the voice grew even more uncertain, "I...I think that is enough. She does not have her blades anymore and she's forgotten her c-_-_-_-_-_-_ sk-_-_-_-_. How much time do we have?"

Again, the robotic voice beeped, "Enough for the awesome me."

"We cannot risk Spain interrupting. Do you have her turtle?"

"Here." The gruff voice said and from the sound of shifting, she guessed that her turtle was handed over.

"WHO ARE YOU?" She demanded.

Instead of responding, they pulled at the casing over her head. For a moment, she was blinded by the sudden light. Then, she widened her eyes at the sight of the three that stood in front of her.

It...it...didn't make any sense. The mirror reflected a figure of herself but it wasn't her. Their bangs were brushed differently. The face looked more exhausted, as if the other had not spent a second to sleep. Belarus was certain that she hadn't looked like that this morning.

Beside the mirror, was a stitched up creature with an strange metal spider on their shoulder. Both of them had features that she was certain she had seen before, but her mind was blurrier everyday when it came to her memory. Where...where...She searched her internal photobook and squinted hard through the fuzziness. Red eyes glowed from the robot and the other had dark amber hair. Both of them had presence that gave the air of a lot of experience, yet a youthful appearance. These...they were called something...

"Nations..." She whispered aloud, and blinked rapidly. Belarus gave a little twitch at her own words.

"She is already breaking through!" her mirror self cheered.

"Not quite..."The metal spider stated and pointed a steel leg at the turtle in the stitched figure's hands. "We have to get rid of this thing's power immediately."

Afraid for her little trinket, Belarus squirmed again with more effort this time. The chair she sat on creaked and threatened to topple over. Again she repeated her demand, "Who are you?"

Her reflection grimaced, "I have told you already. I am you, from an alternate universe."

"Bullshi-" She took a sharp intake of breath as pain sparked in her brain. "Ah! Stop! Stop... My head hurts."

"But you must break free of this, Belarus!"

Her breath quickened, nearly on the verge of hyperventilating. The ropes felt like they were getting tighter and tighter. The robot jumped off their spot and landed over into her lap. She grimaced down at the mechanical robot but the pain was enough to keep her still. Those red lights looked up at her.

"You look terrible." They piped. "Hold on...this might hurt a little bit. Think happy thoughts."

"What are you-GAAAAA!"

She screeched as a piercing sound took over of the room. It stung her brain, as if someone had taken a scalpel to the grey matter inside. Her eyes glared at the machine, though she struggled to keep her head steady due to the pain. Her body squirmed desperately again.

Putting all her effort into the push, she toppled herself over. It broke the chair. But the noise did not stop. Tears welled up in her eyes while the sounds in her throat faded, yet still they wouldn't stop.

_Please, enough!_

And then, as if she had heard the voice in her mind, her reflection shouted, "STOP!"

Instantly, the noise was silenced. Her brain still throbbed and ached, but that too was fading away. Her conscious thoughts were returning again. Loosened because of the broken chair, the ropes had let one arm free. She took this moment to throw the robot far away. It spun in the air, yet somehow found a way to land safely. Shakily, she untied the rest of her binding and pushed herself up on her knees. Belarus took in a few careful steady deep breaths and looked up at her reflection, the one who showed mercy.

"Belarus," the reflection whispered. "You have to wake up from this dream. I cannot stand by and let you do this to yourself any longer. This is not me. This is not you."

"You...me..." An explosion of orange, dusty yellow and dark crimson flashed before her eyes. "The wasteland," she breathed out. "...but that was just a nightmare..."

"That's what you told yourself."

"...it...it...has to be. Sister had sacrificed herself to save me from being captured. Brother died in the combat. My lands...my people...all scorched to ashes. NO!" She shook her head and covered her ears, "NO! NO! It cannot be. I do not want to go out there where there is nothing but death and despair. Nothing can ever done about it. Do not make me-"

" _There is hope!_ " The robot beeped, from sort of recording. She found a hand raising slowly to her lips.

Her mouth began to form and echo each word. "I am...a nation...still willing..."

" _That_ is who you are." Her reflection urged. "You are stronger than I ever will be. You are everything that I am _not_. I know that you can break free from this. I was about to give up on you but...I heard your words here on this recording..."

"-that cannot be-"

"It is."

The robot crawled towards her again and she flinched back. "Thanks to the awesome me, you should be able to remember now without it hurting."

Without uttering another word, she thought back to everything she was trying to forget. The ache within her chest that had been sleeping dormantly bloomed and erupted. It tore at her as each face came back into her mind. She placed both hands on her heart and closed her eyes.

Why did she need to be here? What did she need to know?

Despite her surrounding, she could smell the faint whiff of dried sunflowers, like the ones that scattered her old shelter. It took thirteen steps to pace from her bed to her desk. It took twenty-one and a half to unlock the door and crawl out. She never gave up on her dreams, of family, of better days. She was simply through with waiting for it to come to her. Instead, she decided it was time for her to make it happen.

There was no returning to the past. That was impossible. Yet, you do not forget the past...you build from it. She curled her hands into tight fists and took another deep breath, as the memories slowly came back in focus. She held herself in stillness for a few moments.

"Bel...arus..." A gruff voice mouthed. "Voices...in head...say they want to help. Help...cause..."

The young woman looked up and smiled at Pezzi. "I will take you up on that offer." She stood up and stretched. Her stepped and crushed her felt turtle underneath. "I am done playing house. Let us get out of here."

Finding a way out of the building was a little more complicated than she expected. Nations from the other world could pop up anywhere, and they wouldn't be keen in letting go of their extra maid. The other Belarus and 975514, the robot, scanned their path as they descended each floor.

Her other self explained, as they ran, that after 'The Disaster' their own world had changes of their own. For them, they never got any urge to help out their people and their governments. Unlike their own, they never experienced the unbearable pain of denying that duty. Until, of course, 'The Disaster'. Where her hell was the wasteland, their hell were the world meetings that they were now forced to attend. Their task was to keep Canada's influence to minimum with his own government. This was not easy when they didn't have a credible history of their own.

"We're used to fighting each other," the other Belarus continued. "But not with underhanded policies."

"Would you prefer bombs?" Belarus whispered as they dashed another corner. Her other self was grim and serious. She was no longer that sweet face she had initially seen.

Her other self blinked with an unamused expression, "Yes." In that moment, Belarus realized how much that indifference towards humans affected the other nations.

"BELARUS!" A voice roared.

Belarus shook her head. How had she found pleasure in serving such a terrible copy of her brother? She ignored the shout and directed her attention back to the hall.

"Why do you all gather around Spain anyways?" She whispered to her reflection. Meanwhile, her eyes watched the robot scanned the floor and urged them to dash forward to the stairs again.

"Well, your world is only way we can escape our work without suffering...and the rest of the wasteland isn't very pretty. Here, we can laze around, like a resort-someone's coming."

Belarus immediately pushed Pezzi into the open room across them. She locked and closed the door. She held her breath as the three of them stood awkwardly inside. She counted the seconds as the other Belarus stood by outside to greet the other nation.

"There you are sweetie!" The other Ukraine gushed, "Have you seen your other self around here? You know your brother is getting really angry up there."

Her other self replied happily, "Tell him he should get his own damn bottle himself-ow. shtop that sishter" Belarus rubbed at her own cheek, almost feeling the pinching herself.

"That was rude. You wouldn't be trying to free her would you?" The older lady asked sweetly, but the threat in her voice was poorly masked.

"No." She spoke calmly. "That would not be like me at all, right? Ruining all your fun."

"She wants to be here, dear. She would have ran before Spain gave her that turtle."

Pezzi began to shake and gripped at their nose. Belarus widened her eyes in fear. The mock nation was going to sneeze! She ran to the bed in the room and gave them a pillow.

"And you would know that because?"

The other laughed, "You're so naive. Alright, I'll let you be but if you do see her-"

"ACHOO!"

"I knew it!" The older nation laughed and suddenly her reflection was in the room with them, right on the lamp on the side-table. Her face was distorted by the shape of the lamp. Belarus locked eyes with her and she smiled. "Come on dear, let-"

To everyone's shock, the young woman smashed the lamp to the ground.

"Don't _dear_ me."

More pressed to get out of there, all of them ran down the halls with less care. It wouldn't take long before the other Ukraine snitched them out. Belarus kept the rear, constantly pushing Pezzi to run faster in spite of their bulky size.

"Where are we headed?" She asked as she had never been this far down the building before.

"The basement storage room." The robot beeped. "Your car is being kept there."

"Pezzi..." she looked at the mock-nation with churning guilt gnawing at her stomach. "I left you out there..."

"It's...okay..." The mock-nation panted, clearly pushing at their limits. "Arms brought car in. Did not see me. Ate your supplies. Survive."

She let out a sigh of relief and glanced at the robot, "My weapons?"

"I moved them a few days ago after you tossed them into the trash."

She face-palmed herself. Belarus couldn't believe she had acted so stupidly these past few days...these...past...few...days. She gripped her fists together, pushing herself forward even more. The Liberators...she had promised she would be back within a week.

They continued pushing their way down, as the only elevator in the building was a sure way to get caught. Once they got to the second floor, they reached a dead-end. Yet none of her companions were worried. Pezzi hunched over as they caught their breath. Then, they jumped to where the robot directed them. The groaning of the metal was evident and soon the mock-nation had broken through.

Belarus had little time to look around to where they crashed. She scanned for the car then directed their group to its direction. Her other self appeared in the dashboard, and flickered between the mirrors, like she was worried about someone appearing. The robot handed her the keys and told her to drive straight into the darkness.

"Kesesese," The machine snickered. "The Awesome made sure to clear the path before!"

She shifted it into drive and slammed on the pedal.

"BELARUS!" again the other Russia roared after her. The walls trembled under the force of the shout.

She furrowed her eyebrows as they raced forward. Why didn't he come down? Why did he only ever stay on that top floor? But soon enough, there was light ahead of them, so her mind didn't bother paying any further thought to the question. Her blood coursed with adrenaline and she grinned as the car hit the ground with a heavy thud.

This was more like it.

She gripped at the wheel and took a sharp turn. Streets cleared as she raced down the streets of Empire District #11. The robot opened the gates to the bewilderment of the blank-eyed gatekeepers. Good riddance, she thought, watching the skyscrapers sink back into the ground. Balls of light tried to chase after them but they were quickly out of range.

Hours later, after calming down from her excited high, she switched the wheel with Pezzi again. There were some matters that she needed to caught up with. The presence of 975514 made her fear the worst.

"Tell me. Why are you here?"

The robot no longer snickered or spouted its cocky attitude. Its voice was full of grief. However, it did not mince its words or give pause, "Dome #35 is gone."

She sat up straight and asked, "How?"

Those domes were supposed to be indestructible to nuclear weapons. That's why they had stood for so long.

"Remember when we had a few bomb explosions when you came by?"

Belarus nodded slowly.

"We had to let that smoke out somehow. We tried our best to let it out slowly but still the Empire found us out. They visited and tried to get us to join them. Lili, that brave girl, stood in their way. We aren't fighters...and we were trapped within the dome. Upon seeing our stubbornness, they put on their gas masks and carried out their secondary plans."

"...No..." She lowered her head.

The robot beeped and crawled closer to her feet, "...that's not all. My last order from my brother was to go to the liberators and warn them. I arrived there Belarus and it was destroyed."

She found it hard to breath and her heart felt like it was trying to break free from her rib cage. Regardless, that robotic voice went on, knowing that it had to follow through with the last of its orders. Like his brother, like the man that now powers the robot, 975514 did not quiver at telling the hard truth.

"It didn't take them long to find your recording and it led them to your Liberator camp."

"But they wouldn't dare disturb the balance of the wasteland!" She cried out and slammed her fist against the floor. They couldn't...

"No..." the robot agreed and she snapped her head to the those red glowing eyes again. "However, that didn't stop them from attacking your group to take away the E.M.P devices and send you further away. Luckily, most of them escaped to other Liberator camps. Or so I've been told."

Belarus lit up, "You...were asked to search for me...someone is still there. Oh..." she twitched a smile.

"What was that?"

She ignored its further questions. Her frown tightened, still saddened by the loss of the dome while she looked around the vehicle for her bag. Inside, her hands rummaged through the trash and other pointless supplies. Pulling out the glasses out, she took a deep breath as she turned it on. Her body froze at the date. A little over two weeks had passed since she was lost in that dreamy haze. All the news that had been told to her slowly gripped her. Her hand lowered the device and her eyes stared out at the wall ahead of her.

Those catastrophes had not occurred in sudden unpreventable bursts.

She could almost see that cute little face shouting at the unfeeling empire goons. She probably tried convincing them that they were powerless there, that they weren't a threat. If they were capable of free thought, those goons might have listened. That poor...poor nation. She lowered her head.

For a moment, she was back at the wheel, watching the camp disappear into a tiny dot. Belarus closed her eyes while her hands began to rub at her forehead. It was all her fault for leaving. She had truly been selfish.

Then, a thought came to her. She opened her eyes again and searched inside her bag. A piece of fabric, soft and worn down from the years, brushed against her fingers. She pulled it out. Her eyes blinked at it. Her sister, her real one, had given this to her and Belarus had removed it because it was 'tacky.' The young woman exchanged a glance at her other self, reflected through the visor. The other self gave her a smile.

She placed it back onto her head and adjusted it. She had promised them something that she swore to never forget. Her icy eyes glanced outside the window and at the broken scenery, partially casted in shadow from the thick clouds. She was back in the wasteland and she was no longer going to run away from saving it. After re-strapping them to her leg, Belarus pulled out one of her knives and twirled it, reacquainting herself with its weight. Everyone gave her a glance, even her reflection.

A few tosses in the air got her mind in full focus. The Liberators needed a counterattack. She smirked. She wasn't reckless, she was dangerous. Her eyes took in her group of companions. With this long drive, there was no more prefect time.

Another day and a half passed, Belarus spent that time brainstorming with her companions. To her surprise 975514 was equipped with a miniature version of the E.M.P. Her other self, because Belarus was often on the inside during raids, could transport herself to various Empire locations undetected instantly. Pezzi, the mock-nation, was a super-soldier all on their own. Her trip proved to bring not answers, but the greatest help for the Liberators yet.

They drove up the camp. A single tent was left standing. Everything else was either destroyed by the echoes of hard battle, or dismantled for moving. Someone was sitting on an old crate, looking up at the sky. A visor sat beside them. Belarus told the others to wait inside until her okay, while she got out of the car. They needed this moment alone.

"I'm here." She shouted at him, walking closer but at a very slow pace.

Shakily, as if he had forgotten how to stand, the brunet stood up. His face turned to her. Had it been any other time, she would have laughed at his growing stubble. Instead, she stared at him straight in the eye. Without any hesitation, he aimed his gun at Belarus.

"Give me one good reason not to shoot."

 

 


	12. (A) Break from Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Excuse author's attempts at making this pairing work. As well, sorry for such a short and slow chapter, but it seemed to be a necessary break from action, action, action each time.

* * *

**_Share everything with the Empire. I am a great listener._ **

* * *

She let out a long exhale, relaxing her shoulders. Her eyes never broke from his. Dry ground crunched underneath her boots as she approached him. The gun remained steadily pointed at her as she continued to walk. Though she was too far to see, she was certain that the trigger finger was tightening.

She took in a deep breath and let out her words, projecting across the distance. "I'm sorry."

BANG!

Belarus refused to flinch. The bullet whizzed past her head, her ears rang and even her heart held itself still as if to brace for impact. In the back of her mind she noted that, judging from the sound behind her, that it hadn't been a fake bullet shot at her.

Careful still, her walk continued on. He wasn't shaking with any sort of emotion, because that wasn't what affected his aim. He watched her with guarded eyes. Soon, both were ten paces away from each other. Her hands opened and closed as she fought back the urge to cross her arms, knowing that he was looking for signs like that.

"I am sorry that I took the car and supplies. I am sorry that I did not arrive in ti-"

She was cut off by a sudden hug. The woman's entire body stiffened out of reflex but, after a little while, she relaxed. He pulled away before she was able to decide whether or not to hug back. She swallowed the disappointment and observed the other's face closely, looking for a sign of anger or distrust. The young man's expression was something that she couldn't place or understand.

"You...actually came back." He said as he continued to stare at her. He wasn't touching her anymore, but with their close distance, there was no escape.

Blue at last broke away from green. She shifted awkwardly on her feet and rubbed at her cooling arms, "Why would I not?"

"Well, I sure wasn't expectin' an apology." He chuckled quietly, not because he found it funny but needed something to fill the space. It was a bizarre sound to hear. He calmed down soon after, "If there was something to regret-"

"-I wouldn't have done it then," She finished, smiling a little at the memory of when she had said that to him. Then she froze. Her eyes widened as she returned to meet his once more. "I thought you were _drunk_ when I said that."

His eyebrows raised high, "And I thought that _you_ were since...well... so...um... those bottles were?"

"Someone else's."

"The flush?"

"Did you see what Scotland was wearing...or lack of..." She shuddered, "Wait, no. I saw you down a few bottles."

"Oi, I can handle my alcohol."

She crossed her arms to challenge his protest and he rolled his eyes in response. It had been months ago, nearly a year now but strangely the memory felt fresh. Solely, perhaps, for a single reason.

It was a kiss. On the cheek. By her. He had told her that she would regret it later, that he was never going to forget it. However, when the following morning came, neither brought it up again.

Belarus reached out to touch his arm then slid down to hold his hand. She murmured more apologies as she got closer. Her head lowered with each that slipped past her lips. He shook his head as he entwined his fingers into hers. The action was deliberately slow, as if he was afraid that she would disappear into dust, or better yet crush his fingers.

"So... why?" He asked quietly.

Her grip tightened, "I...I...did not find my answers chasing the impossible."

She raised her head up, expecting some told-you-so smirk. Her mind was as edgy as she was facing a Kuma-bot, calculating every possible outcome. It was a natural habit. In order to survive, Belarus needed to predict her opponent's moves well and double-guessing was not an option.

Against him though, in these matters, it was a happy loss. Where she expected more teasing, she was given an understanding saddened smile. His words did not have an ounce of scolding.

"We all forget sometimes," he replied and gave her hand a comforting squeeze back. "You know...you still haven't apologized for the worst one."

Belarus tilted her head and stared at him as she waited for him to continue.

"...You went alone...without me," He murmured almost inaudibly near the end. Then, in a blink, the sheepish expression was replaced with a cockier one, "You know how boring all the plannin' was? The other camp leaders do nothin' but bicker and piss each other off. Darnit, you could at least bring me along next time."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful punch in the arm. Before she was able to call out to the car, she got another squeeze from Australia. She returned her attention back to him.

He whispered again, "You're grippin' kinda hard, Nat." Embarrassed, she let go at last and shouted to her companions hiding in the car.

The young man gaped upon his initial sight of Pezzi. She explained about the Gang-tribe's disgusting experimentation with nations and that this was the end result. He listened and nodded, meanwhile Pezzi approached with nervousness weighing down their cautious steps. The brunet noticed this and gave him a friendly smile.

"Name's Australia," he said to Pezzi as he held out his hand first.

* * *

Belarus hunched over and covered her face within her hands to let out a long exhale of frustration. She had a robot with the complete archive of the most self-centered Prussian that ever lived, a mock-nation with a handful of different 'voices', and an Australian who breathed adventure. The moment she had finished explaining everything that had happened to the young man, including the hooded figure and the crazy old man, each yearned to share their own.

With a plan brewing throughout the entirety of the trip, Belarus wanted to skip to realizing it already, not sit around telling stories. She glared at the robot. It was all of its fault for getting them on this tangent. Her face was kept cool to mask her inner thoughts.

_How fast would I have to take out my knife before Australia stops me._

Turns out that it wasn't necessary. In the middle of the robot's recount, one of Pezzi's arms came flowing down at him.

"Sorry!" The mock-nation cried out as they restrained their own wrist. "Voice dislike Prussia. Sometime controls arms."

"That voice must jealous of greatness."

Pezzi's arm tried to hit him again but the robot was prepared for it. It jumped high in the air, flipped over to flaunt itself, and landed on Belarus' head. She jerked her head down to get it off.

"Hey! You have to take care of me. I have the E.M.P. you know."

Australia's eyes widened, "An electronic magnetic pulser?"

"Yeah, that's what the acronym stands for." The robot replied sarcastically.

The brunet ignored his remark and turned to Belarus, "You came up with a plan then, don't you?"

"You are quite certain of it."

"I fought both Scotland and India about it. They nearly knocked me out and dragged me away."

She gave him a look-over, "I did think you looked scruffier."

"Look any better?"

Belarus chose not to reply and pulled out of one of her knives, "Anyways, about the plan. We still have one more introduction to get through." She noticed the way he flinched when she pointed it towards him "I am not going to stab you."

He chuckled, "You _do_ have a record."

It was at this point her other self chose to appear. Considering that she had been waiting on the side for so long, she jumped at the opportunity before they were all distracted again. As if it had morphed into a venomous scorpion, he dropped the blade. Leave it to alter-dimensional beings to spook the often fearless man. When her mirror self explained herself, his face was just as confused as Belarus had been. She inwardly smiled at that fact.

Around an hour later, Australia was poking holes through their whole plans. Details about the current issues had not be accounted for. Canada would be touring the European Districts at the beginning of next month, a couple days from now, meaning spikes in security. It explained the over-the-top reaction to the E.M.P discovery. Anything to do with the 'Great Leader' struck enough fervor for the laziest credit-obsessed citizen work to free, over time.

Regardless, this didn't dissuade the group from their efforts. It sparked it. After a test-run with her other's self's ability and its range, they changed their end goal. Instead of toppling the empire's main defence then send a series of cascading onslaughts on major cities, they would face the head itself. The task itself required a miracle on their side, but the payoff would save a year's worth of fighting.

An assassination never guaranteed the dissolution of an empire, but with the artificially enforced structure of this one, there was no more efficient way. However, Belarus, despite her constant reliance on luck during raids, held doubts. She held out hope that Australia would voice something, _anything_. But when the words, 'kill' and 'Canada' were placed in the same sentence, he grinned and agreed instantly. She was shocked to see him so bloodthirsty for a moment. She had never thought to ask how he had been affected by the Madman's actions.

Near the end, she racked her brain for any pressing criticism. She searched the faces of those around her. Pezzi cared little about imminent death, same with 975514 and her mirror self. Failure would only severely affect Australia and her. Certain death normally never frightened her either, but it bothered her that there wasn't someone else that cared.

Determined as she was, dangerous as she was, dispassionate to killing as she was, the act to end the leader's life grew unease inside her. She held no reservations against wrapping her hands around his throat until he matched her favorite shade of blue. If the man stood before her now, then her dagger would've stabbed his eyes, thighs, whatever else before she delivered the sweet release of death. The wasteland was all his fault.

The doubts came from her pessimism. Something had to go wrong, and at this scale the stakes were higher than she had ever risked. Again, she wasn't the reckless type. It was one thing to a Kuma-bot, it was another thing to face a dozen of them while trying to aim for a specific target to make drastic changes in their world.

Other nations, from her own this time, those who were conquered and forcefully wiped of all self-awareness, would sure to fight with them. These past few weeks were filled with more nation reunions than the prior fifteen years. Tied with the empire, their nation abilities would not be as diminished.

Some bit of her was worried about those room she had entered has so many of them. Would she lose herself to delusion again? Her hand reached up to her ribbon, readjusted it and patted it twice for reassurance.

"You're worryin' again, Nat." Australia poked her arm which broke her dismal reverie.

She nodded, "The first step is impossible. All of it is."

"Has impossible ever stopped you?" He replied with small smile, poking her again. She gulped and he stopped, "It's okay to be scare-"

"I am not scared," she snapped back.

He was immediately hands-off and looked around for some sort of change in topic, "Oh, right. I rescued your belongings from your drawer. I can get them from my tent right now, if you want Don't worry, I didn't open anythin'."

Belarus thawed a bit and nodded. She watched him as he left and pulled out her knife. Her other self was already out doing their part. Her heart clenched, thinking more about their plan and what they were aiming to do. By the time Australia returned with her stuff, she was writing down lists of numbers on the ground. He didn't ask and she never told.

* * *

Night never appealed to her, and her journey alone made her distaste worsen. Grey clouds were still grey clouds, but at least there was muted light. She sat up and glanced around the vehicle with a yawn. Pezzi was snoring lightly on the other end. Funny how she had never noticed that during the trip. Despite their robotic features, the mock-nation still had a significant amount of organic parts. She stood up and opened a window as big as she could without disturbing the mock-nation.

The colder air always helped clear out her mind. Her eyes traced across the far horizon. Would she have had the same thoughts if their E.M.P plans had carried through? What was it about facing Canada, himself, that bothered her? Part of her wished for the stars.

There was a sound of clicking from the front. Curious to what the robot was doing, she tiptoed her way over. Crawling back and forth, the robot paced the area like a sentry guard. The little thin legs made special effort to hit cushioned or felted areas to minimize its sound. She watched it for a while, wondering how long it would take for it to notice.

The body of the A.L.C was as shiny as ever which left her wondering about its material. It was definitely the work of the post-war era. As she was looking, she noticed it had a few more scratches than the ones she had seen before, perhaps another sign of its age. The red eyes were also more expressive, a kind of side-ways tear-dropped shape to them. She wondered how much of the original had been saved into the device.

"Not sleeping, Belarus?" It said after its third time around and then froze in its spot, over the gears in middle. She stood up straighter as she was pulled from her thoughts. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

She shook her head then asked, "Do you not sleep?"

"Why would the impressive me rest?"

Belarus mused that the robot acted exactly the same as its host. Maybe having the memories always had this kind of affect on the carriers, like giving a second life to them. On paper that concept sounded poetic and almost ideal.

However, reality always had a way to corrupt every well-intentioned design. Programmed to only listen to another's regrets forever, the Empire A.L's were in turn vicious, unsympathetic and cruel. She wondered if only the good memories of Prussia were transferred, by contrast. Unable to think up another answer for its question, Belarus shrugged and turned to go back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next Time: The first step.
> 
> I seriously cringed writing Belarus' thoughts against Canada. But I did make him a despicable villain.


	13. Top of the Deck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Forgot to update AO3 version too.

What was once a couple days soon shrunk down to 19 hours from now. Shadows emphasized the hard edges of the buildings. As she looked out the window, she mused that even the Empire couldn't completely run away from the darkness of the wasteland. To counter the depressing cloud cover, various posts had been set up alongside the streets to dye the sky above. Occasional mixes of patterns like checkerboards, or arcing pulses would flash to give their time of day. Belarus thought it childish and ridiculous, while her eyes stared worriedly at the sickly green hue overhead at the moment.

Their group were currently camping it out in District #15, part of Poland's lands and part of Germany's. With how the battle carried out, Poland's own resistance forced the Empire to conquer it in small bursts, which created this area between the borders. It was became the tempting fruit to persuade the rest to surrender. As one of the districts without the original personification under Empire control, they figured that it would be easier to accomplish their goal.

She had once been here before. Before she pushed for their outright pull, there used to be many assignments of Liberator spies in here. At the time, this place had the least amount security around. Consequently, it was where they had set up base for their network. Belarus had often had meetings in here, as she was the most involved in the secretive work. Abandoned and forgotten, it turned back into an empty apartment, a place kept under a fake account, hidden underneath the systems loopholes. They were supposed to let this place get reassigned to some random ordinary citizen but never got around to it. It would appear that the overlooked bits were what counted in the end.

"Belarus, you see anythin' out that window?" Australia asked as she continued to forlornly stare outside.

"Nothing. Is 975514 back?" She replied, then uncurled and turned away from the windowsill. She stretched out her stiffened joints. Her legs prickled as the blood gush back into them.

He pulled out his communicator device, now connected to the signal of the robot and reported, "Still out gettin' our food."

She hummed as her shoulder gave a large crack. Hardly any supplies had been left behind, as most were either destroyed or taken with them during the retreat. Scratch that. Except for throwing stilettos, hardly any supplies were left behind. Since she was the only who used that form of weaponry, no one dared to take her stash. Most of them were formed from useless scrap metal anyways.

Australia had a few magazines himself but that was his own personal inventory. Both of them still had their visors. It was only a chance of pure luck that Belarus had taken her long coat and a few extra barcodes with her. There was only enough on those accounts to buy their way around I.C.U droids and gates. Since they were already pressed for time, there was no way of getting more.

Even though they were severely under-equipped, there was nothing they could do about it. When they had contacted the Liberators, India and Scotland called them insane reckless lunatics who were going to be downfall of them all. More so, India yelled most of the disapproval and Scotland gave a scoff of 'hell no'. They were on their own. On the bright side, at least Pezzi didn't need to be armed.

Her eyes looked around the room, now noticing that only the brunet was here with her. "I do not see Pezzi."

"They're takin' a walk outside. Something about those voices actin' up again and that they had to check out something."

She jolted up, "But-"

"Don't worry yourself. They got that cloak with them and I think that robot part of their brain can sense the I.C.U's and Kuma-bots. No one in this entire district would be in their right mind to mess with a person that size anyways."

"Easy to pick out of a crowd though," Belarus muttered. "I do not like it. I am going out to look for them.

"Told you not to worry," He shook his head and stood in her way when she tried to grab her own jacket. "I'll go. You need to prep yourself for the infiltration and I'm pretty sure your other self will be back with their findings."

She bit his lip. He was right. Her other self could only enter places in this world where she herself had visited. Meaning, if they wanted any helpful surveillance before Canada's visit, she needed to wander around that very building herself. All she needed to do was pretend to be some lost citizen, look around and then get guided out. No weapons, no confrontations.

From what their visors could decipher, they couldn't have asked for a better way to trap the 'Great Leader'. It was a tower heavily reliant on technology. The most elite of the Empire resided there, with a few empty rooms for visiting nations. The top penthouse was forever reserved for Canada himself. What was great about it was that, if you were to shut down that electronic backbone, like with an E.M.P for example, then you could lock-down the entire building. Unless the Leader could fly out the window or jump to his own doom, there was no escape. From the steepness of its shape, even a Kuma-bot couldn't claw their way up it.

The I.C.U droids were going to be their main problem. Based on what they have spotted, their count was around the high hundreds with another additional chunk waiting in the storage reserves.

She tsked as she threw a knife to the top corner of the room. The struck A.L hit the ground with a plop. It buzzed and crackled as the last bit of its life disappeared. She waited until it completely shutdown before retrieving her weapon again. She took in a deep breath as she picked it up, then tossed it into the garbage chute. These things broke down often enough on their own so it wouldn't be missed. Belarus washed her hands twice over afterwards.

Bored and with nothing better to do, she unmuted the holographic television in their room. Luxury Level #3 rooms were luckily allowed that option. Mostly propaganda flashed on the screen, reminders to stay diligent for spies, or to do their duty of working hard, stuff like that. Due to the upcoming visit though, a few special programs started up to talk about the preparations.

"And would take a look at the cakes set up! What do we have set for the dessert menu?" the interviewer asked the chef beside him.

"Well, we have maple fritters, maple cheesecake, maple pudding…" the other woman went on. She counted on her fingers as she went down the list of items, "several variations of maple donuts using that wonderful ancient empire recipe, and-"

Belarus changed the channel without a second's notice. Streamers exploded around the frame. The next show followed an obnoxious duo going through all the floats for the parade. She groaned at their personalities and muted the holographic screen again. A confirmation window pushed itself into her face. She rolled her eyes as she pressed it.

Her throat was a little dry so she got up to walk to the kitchen. She pulled out one of the cheap plastic glasses out of the cabinet. Absentmindedly, she scrubbed it clean with the running faucet water. As she filled her glass, her other self appeared in the shine of the sink.

"I have the times." Her other self said sternly. "In around 30 minutes from now, the I.C.U droids will have a gap in their pattern and you will be able to enter the building without being asked."

Belarus nodded then threw her head back and chugged down her drink. She let out a satisfied sigh and paused before setting her glass down quietly. Her other self was shifting her eyes around nervously.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, though I am currently avoiding a meeting right now."

"Really? Why?" With the way they were working together, she was half expecting her other self working hard to defeat Canada on her own side. The other nations wouldn't be risking much and a bit of her hoped that they would help them. Apparently not.

The other nation bit her lip, "No one likes that I helped free you. It has made taking my turns to speak very difficult."

Belarus nodded sympathetically, "Keep trying."

"Yeah...I guess. Oh, by the way I think you should find a change of clothes. The elite up there dress much...differently. You will be able to make to the higher floors better if you blend in more. The flashier, more fluorescent, the better. "

"Will do." She nodded and then the other was gone, finished up their work.

Belarus opened up her visor and had it scan her barcode. She hissed as she looked through the prices of the online store. She wouldn't be able to pay for any fines afterwards...but if she needed it, she needed it. Reluctantly, she clicked the sale confirmation window.

A low whining sound began in the living/dining room and she followed it . The clothes materialized before her from the holographic television. Handy. The outfits on the other hand...disgusting and the colors hurt her eyes. Oh well.

Thirty minutes later, she was inside the building. Again, the spider program was compatible even on this level, to fake a temporary opening. Upon sight of the other elites that resided within, she knew she was underdressed.

Apparently a party was being hosted...or it was always happening. The higher up elites typically partied everyday. None of them know when their last moment to enjoy their riches would come until the next more conniving person takes their place. It was a constant cycle of outdoing the evil of another.

A woman was shoved right out of a room in front of her path head. Her eyes were streaked with tears, as makeup ran down her face. Nearly clawing her way through the, she tried to get back in with all her might. With her hair in such disarray, she looked like a banshee banging down on the door of some unfortunate fool to announce their death. Belarus kept eyes forward to avoid their attention,

In the end though, no one cared. Even without her endless ducking around, she was practically invisible to them, as if they trained their eyes to look away from abnormalities. Or they were too wrapped up in their worlds. It was hard to tell between the constant laughing and crying.

The I.C.U droids on the other hand...

Only three floors away from the top she felt a tug at her collar. Her first thought was to flip the machine over with a single toss, but such would be attracting all attention to her. She gulped and turned around slowly.

"Present Barcode Registration!" The droid beeped out.

As she began to unroll her sleeve, a sudden cheering came stampeding down the hall. The ruckus of drunken laughter distracted the robot. She slipped away as the droid turned around to give out some warnings. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a hooded figure watching her.

She looked away and ran. Not again. She was through with swaying back into the past. Belarus refused to be the young girl who waited anymore. Her next steps dug into the ground and pushed herself forward.

* * *

By the time she returned to their apartment, everyone else, save for her other self of course, had already returned. Australia was shaking his head. He seemed to scolding Pezzi furiously. Meanwhile, the mock-nation sheepishly looked down, looking exactly like an absurdly gigantic child. Their A.L.C ally was pacing around as usual.

"How was it?" Australia asked as she finished entering the pin-code to lock the door. His eyes gave her a look over and he raised a brow. His head tilted in confusion, "What's with the outfit?"

In a teasing manner, she jutted out her hip to the side, "Like it?"

He rolled his eyes and let out a snort, "If you like lookin' like a traffic light intersection, then yeah."

She straightened out and frowned, "It was worth all my credits. Anyways, it was needed to get into that tower. Hold on, I am going to change." She replied and walked nonchalantly over to the bathroom to change, taking a little detour to get her clothes from her bag.

"Dinner first then recap?" He shouted as she closed the door.

"Yeah," she called out, eager to get out of the empire fashion disaster.

A few processed capsules became their dinner. Not their best meal but filling enough. It was a miracle that such a thing could satisfy her. They collected themselves into the living room to exchange information.

"So, what was the highest luxury level like?" Australia said while he crossed his arms and leaned back.

"As expected. Idiots partying like there is no tomorrow. Drink until backstabbed in the morning. Other than that, it was fairly easy to get around. The visor can get me passed most of the locks up there but the I.C.U droids…I almost got caught."

"What happened?"

"It spotted me...but then...it was distracted by a large party coming down the hall….I...I saw the hooded figure again."

Australia mouthed a silent oh then inquired, "You okay? Did you give chase?"

She shook her head, "I am over it." She then pointed her head to the mock-nation, "Where did they go?"

The brunet groaned and hunched over. "Pezzi. You tell her."

"...Fountain. I jumped in…."

"Why?"

"Voice said it looked pretty. Wanted to get closer. I got closer."

" _Pezzi_." She tsked and sighed. Good thing she had suggested someone get him back inside. The mock-nation didn't have an inkling of common sense, that or the voices really needed to understand how to share control.

"That's not all," Australia muttered and jabbed the mock-nation with his elbow.

"Droids coming. I ran. Had to get dry. Entered store."

"No…"

"Yup." Australia crossed his arms and leaned back again, "I used up a ton of credits and a bit of visor hackin' to get away from that mess."

"THIS SUCKS!" 975514 shouted. "You got to do exciting things while the great me stuck around getting your food."

Belarus shook her head. They didn't have time for any of this. She shot the robot a disapproving glare to let the subject drop. She informed 975514 to wait for her other self to return before going into the building.

Even though he was also an A.L, his old model and make would be easily discernable. The robot would need the extra eyes and ears to get around that towers and all the way to the top. Everyone reviewed the plan, which wasn't much to begin with since it was crazily based on improvisation and luck, then decided to get some rest.

Night came. No one slept.

Belarus had taken up the couch after losing to Australia in an arm-wrestling match. She didn't really care because she could sleep anywhere at this point. Not that it mattered. After the third failed attempt at relaxing her body, she sat up.

Pezzi had taken up her spot next to the window sill which left Belarus to find her own chair. As she sat down and looked ahead of her, she noticed that the mock-nation's face was twitching in all sorts of expressions. At one moment they seemed blissfully happy, another second later there was anger and hate, then worry, then melancholy. The switches creeped her out a little and she reached over to touch their arm.

"Ah, Belarus." The mock-nation said as they turned around. Their face calmed down. "Have question?"

She shook her head and leaned back a little. She looked away for a moment, scratching her cheek while she tried to find an explanation, "Um..No. Your face it was...um…"

"Oh!" Pezzi smiled apologetically and raised its shoulders, "Voices. Excited to be here."

"I see."

The mock-nation looked out to the colored clouds. The sky was now painted in dark red and white with the mark of the empire popping in once in a while. The way it flashed felt like lighting was going to come down on them. Strangely, the mock-nation smiled at this too.

"Large place. This district." They spoke again with their eyes still on the sky.

"Canada grabbed all that he could."

Pezzi nodded solemnly, "Voices know. Split land up. Split friends, family…." Flickers of colors changed in their eyes, each probably matching the voices within. Shivers ran down her spine seeing them all, so many of them, so many voices trapped in that single vessel.

"I know I've asked this before...but again...Who...who are all the voices?"

"A lot." Pezzi replied and then started counting on their fingers as they went on, "Veneziano Italy, Romano Italy, Hungary, Greece, Austria, Monaco, Malta…i think more...not many speak anymore. I can sense them in here...but no sounds."

Her jaw slackened a bit as she heard the extended list, "That is-" She swallowed hard, "That is a lot."

"Romano strongest...That voice sad right now. Can't look around. Sees people...sees them dead."

"Who was the one that wanted to see the colors in the fountain?"

Pezzi hummed, "Greece. Something about a myth about the Goddess Iris...rainbows. Surprised to see all the colors. Only grey before."

She smirked, "Well, I hope he understands the cost of such a sight."

"Greece does."

There was long calm silence. Only breathing could be heard. Eyes kept focused on the outside, the passing people, the changing sky, the light-lined buildings that changed to signify the night. Pezzi once more broke it.

"What was Lili...before...Hungary Voice wants to know. Voice took care of her...after her brother...must know."

She bit her lip and gave a slow nod, avoiding the other's eyes, "Lili became a leader, she stood strong, she dared to go off into danger to protect others. I do not think she would have been a micronation anymore after this."

To grow from a micronation to a nation...it was amazing. As far as personifications went, Lili had the most potential to change that way. Under war, it was near impossible for nations to grow or be born, only die. Finalization was often only met during treaties. Sometimes it was just a name change. Sometimes _that_ was the only time a nation would realize it was their end. Belarus didn't spend much time swimming in these thoughts; Pezzi had another question.

"After tomorrow? What will that be?"

Belarus couldn't fathom. Destruction of the empire was all that she thought of, all that she built the past fifteen to work towards. A tomorrow after that felt surreal. Would there even be a tomorrow for her? An attempt at killing the nation behind the empire was already pushing her chances of survival.

"I do not know," she admitted.

Surprisingly, the mock-nation let out a sigh of relief, "Not same as Australia."

"Australia?"

Pezzi shuddered, "Very angry. More angry than any voices. Scary."

Belarus opened her mouth to push the mock-nation further, but had second thoughts. Asking would be like gossiping. She should ask Australia himself. So, instead she hummed and returned her eyes to stare outside. Both held a peaceful existence, lost in the colors of an 'evil' world. Her eyes caught down on the people and she wondered what their reactions would be to what they were doing.

* * *

At some point Belarus did fall finally asleep, because by time she opened her eyes, the sky was colored in a bright yellow and orange. Behind her, Australia paced back and forth; his face locked into a state of concentration.

Australia muttered as he went through various screens with his visor, rapidly flipping through them. Humans had been the ones who created the programs themselves, so it left them at a bit of a disadvantage. If their programs didn't work, then their plans would be botched. She couldn't admit she was worried about this. She trusted the other nation to be able to handle it, as he always had with every raid mission.

She was going to greet a good morning until she noticed the murderous glint in his eyes. How...strange. For the first time, she felt a little scared. Even later on, the two of them wouldn't speak anymore and she was left wondering about Pezzi's words from last night.

Then, the moment for their solo attack came.

Belarus panted as Australia and her ran up the stairs, checking every door was locked on their way up. Stairs. The enemy to everyone. Her legs burned, demanding some sort of break. She took in another breath and looked over to Australia, who didn't seemed bothered by it all. Pezzi was left at the entrance to prevent any trouble from climbing up. 975514 would meet up with them momentarily while her other self kept on stand by.

At the top there were three I.C.U droids and two human guards. Stilettos stabbed those red eyes quick. She waited behind to let Australia knock out the humans. He tossed them down the steps where the sounds of their necks cracking reverberated.

Her eyes stared wide at him but he didn't notice. She was left to chase after him and that worrying feeling from earlier, that pessimism that something was going to go wrong, built up within her.

* * *

The madman's lair was a lot less ominous. Breaking down the door took a little more of a physical kick, as not a single trick on the visors. Out of the blue, there was a loud roar that shook the entire building. A kuma-bot. Unable to do anything else, she hoped that Pezzi would survive fighting off that.

She split up with the other nation, taking out people in every room while he proceeded to secure the main area. There weren't many people around, surprisingly enough. However, she did get an eerie sense of deja vu with all the stuffed animals around.

_It is nothing. I have to focus._

She reassured herself. They were probably only reminding her about Spain. That was it. She entered the spacious main area. A single person sat in a rounded egg-shaped chair. A huge glass window covered the entire wall in front of them, overlooking the entire district.

"Hey, why did you turn off the lights?" That person called out, thinking that they were one of his guards. That voice was unmistakable.

"Hey, to you too mate," Australia spoke in a cool tone as he neared closer to Canada with his gun. The other man set down his drink on the table beside him and turned his chair away from the large window overlooking the district. The blond had a calm and quiet grin on his face. He seemed happily surprised to see them.

"Oh, you've gotten rid my guards?" he noted mundanely. "How have you been?"

Australia didn't reply but instead flicked his eyes over to her, as if partly asking that he was actually hearing what he was hearing. She shrugged. He didn't waste anymore time and fired. Red bloomed from the nation's heart and he stumbled back.

Another. Another. BANG! BANG! Soon enough, Australia was just shooting rapidly, his face growing more and more tense. Even with their regeneration ability, Belarus knew this was overkill. Yet, just as she was about to stop him and calm him down, there was a laugh.

Although a pool, as red as the Empire's flag, soaked the carpet where he lay, the blond nation laughed. Then, he got up.

Canada's laugh was so quiet and tranquil with the situation that it froze her entire self with fear. Her eyes were so trained on the mad nation before them, she almost failed to notice the flickering of red in the shadows surrounding them. A sleek creature sprung out at Australia's hands as he tightened around the trigger. Her breath caught in fear. She began throwing her knives all around her. His decoration of stuffed animals had come alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest here...I'm kinda losing interest in both this fandom and this story. I'm not quite sure I can finish it...sorry...Next Time (hopefully): Evil comes with Maple.


	14. Maple Grinning Wide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hate leaving fics hanging...especially with so much of this already planned/written out. I need to give it its overdue end. Let’s see if I can get this finished before the new year.
> 
> Warning: Has quite a gory bit in here.

Creatures with knives stabbed into their eyes _should_ cease to move. You know, Instead of, let's say... mutate and deform in order to swallow up more weapons. Belarus cursed as yet another of her blades were eaten. She kicked the fluffy vicious beavers at her feet and spun around as they clutched at her.

 

Squeaks filled the air as they fought against the demonic toys. She attempted to throw knives in the tyrant’s direction, but it was often intercepted. She shouted to Australia but a white teddy bear stuffing his face prevented a response.  Evolving past the phase of merely clinging on to them, the toys began to bite and scratch.

 

She pulled one apart out of sheer aggravation and stuffing exploded all over her...wait. A half-melted shard clinked to the ground and she opened her eyes wide as she recognized its form. Her dagger’s handle had yet to be digested….that meant...Their weapons supplied the metal for their claws and teeth!

 

“Stop shooting them!” She shouted to the other nation. “They’re adapti-AH!”

 

One of the geese had snapped its beak on her forearm. Blood seeped out as she grasped at its neck. She hissed through her teeth as she tried to yank it off, but her skin followed the teeth along, intensifying her pain. Desperate to get it off, she smashed at it repeatedly. One her hits landed on its head and she heard a satisfying crunch. Thankfully, the metal mouth then unhinged itself from her.

 

“Their heads!”

 

Both of them made quick work of their opponents soon after, but it wasn’t over. Slow claps trailed down from the raised platform in front of them and their original target re-entered their attention. Canada cheekily gestured them to approach.

 

Belarus reached out for her knives again, but in the confusion of their battle, her containers had been stolen. Empty clicks coughed from Australia’s gun. Wary of the nation’s other tricks, she held her ground. However, Australia seemed to have run out of patience. Hidden within his boots, the nation pulled out his last two resorts.

 

The blond grinned with more teeth at the sight of the daggers. As if he was welcoming a friend with a present, Canada spread his arms wide. Yet, just as the tip of the blade was about to make contact, he fell back, kicking his legs up. It hit the other in the gut. Australia tumbled forward and leapt to his feet again. Both stood at a standstill.

 

Belarus ran to hold the dictator still, but she was forced to take a step back, as the daggers' range included her as well. The brunet took no notice of her glares and proceeded to charge wildly. His technique grew sloppier but the woman could not interfere, lest get slashed herself. Canada laughed and laughed as he dodged. Their "dance" made another twirl around the room.

 

“So, is this how you act without New Zealand to hold you back?”

 

“Don’t be bringin’ my siblin’ into this just because you don’t care for yours.”

 

“Oh, but I do care for everyone! Haven’t seen my posters?”

 

“What you  _practice_ might be a little more important.” The other hissed.

 

“I could say the same for you."

 

"What’re you implyin’?"

 

The other gave him a shrug.

 

"Oh, what would your sibling say to you if they saw you like this? Oh, wait. New Zealand can no longer  _see_ ...or hear...or speak."

 

Blinded with rage, Australia dropped his daggers and rush at him, hands out to strangle the man. Surprised by the change, the blond was finally pinned down the ground. He didn’t struggle, but instead wordlessly let the other tighten the hold around his throat.

 

This ticked off the brunet even more and he lifted the man up a bit before cracking his head against the hard floor. He repeated the process.

 

“Tell. Me. What. You’ve.Done.”

 

Canada coughed and gurgled, from both his own drool and his blood. He had a plan though, and snuck his hands into his pockets. By the time Belarus noticed this, Australia had already been shocked by the hidden tazer. Smoke lingered in the air.

 

A knee snapped up and pushed the fallen body away. The brunet groaned. After Canada pulled himself up, he smeared the blood from the corner of his lips and shot her a grin.

 

“I guess I shouldn’t be shocked to see you here, what with your hereditary crazy nature, eh?”

 

Her eyes thirsted to see him dead.

 

Unable to fling anything else, she picked up a melted dagger, then whizzed it through the air. Its aerodynamics made it difficult to aim but it forced the man to back up. She calculated all the possible angles to attack him as her barrage continued; her mind sped up with adrenaline. With a circular flourish, she kicked one of the plush carcasses as a distraction and dove in.

 

Clink!

 

"Heh." He grinned as his clothes blocked her blade, "Chemically-engineered cloth."

 

But the stab hadn't been her aim at all and soon alarmed eyes took over the blond's smug attitude. He fell back as his legs were swept away. An angled second melted blade awaited his neck with a wet shlick. Blood dripped from her hands as she tore away from him. The man underwent spasms as his regeneration process started up again. She threw the blade down, pinning his throat down. His eyes glazed over.

 

The woman took in a deep breath and plunged her hands into opening up the wound to prevent his body from regenerating. She could _taste_ the blood from the pungent smell alone and her stomach flipped. Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six... Five... Four... Three... Two... One... Canada stilled. She added another five seconds before stepping away to check on Australia.

 

She hovered above him, "Get up."

 

"..."

 

"GET UP!"

 

She swallowed. He couldn’t be dead. No...not like this-not here...As if hearing her silent pleading, the man winced and shifted his body. Her breathe released. Slowly but surely, he managed to open his eyes. Yet despite her outstretched hand, he chose to keep lying there and blink slowly.

 

“That Bastard. Is he dead?”

 

A mask painted over the man’s expression and even with her sharp intuition...she couldn’t read it. The hue of rage flared within his eyes, yet a cool blue of calm rigidly kept his lips in place. She nodded with a deliberate stall.  

 

“...I personally delayed his regeneration process. No nation can survive that.”

 

He grunted as he sat up, again ignoring her help. Belarus dropped her hand and with a confused look on her face, even let Australia shove her aside.

 

“Let me...just…” The brunet stumbled over his own feet as he tried to walk over to his fallen dagger. “Just…”

 

“Rest.”

 

“NO!”

Belarus flinched and that attitude bristled her to take a defensive stance. However, she soon realized that she wasn't the reason why his outcry. Squishes and cracks yanked her attention, against her inner fight to keep still.

 

_Inconceivable.  
_

 

The leader of the empire rose. He dislodged the dagger from his throat and coughed. His eyes rolled back into place. She could have sworn her lungs collapsed inside her, like for every second she watched her opponent breathe, her chest constricted one ounce more. She screamed.

 

-Or wait. She didn’t. Her hand fluttered to her throat. No, that wasn’t coming from her. She tilted her head up to the source of the sound. The piercing war cry was…coming from the ceiling, inside...the vents?

 

CLANK! Almost humorously, Canada let out a high pitched shriek as 975514 dropped onto his head. The machine’s claws tugged at his hair. Due to the copious amount of blood, the man slipped and fell over.

 

The blond twisted around on the ground as he attempted to pry the thing off. The little struggle only lasted a fistful of short seconds, not even long enough to even let the Australian or the Belarusian have another go at the tyrant. Another zap ran through the air. The machine seized and collapsed onto the floor.

 

“Oh, an old model,” Canada mused as he picked the machine up with his stained hands. The robot twitched with electricity. “Huh, I wonder what kind of memories you’ve fed this one.”

 

“Let the awesome me go!”

 

Those indigo eyes lit up, “This must’ve been one of Francis’ commissions from Alfred, one of the first. Interesting.”

 

“I said, let me go!”

 

He turned it over and ignored how much it squirmed, “It’s a funny thing how these were conceived. How did Alfred put it…’ it’s like stuffing a scarecrow up to stand in the place of a human being’...He’s terrible at similes but the idea was to stuff up robots with the memories of people, seemingly extend lives so people won’t miss them as much. How stupid.”

 

Upon uttering those last words, Canada threw the A.L.C to the ground and crushed it underneath the heel of his boot. Crunch! Again. Crunch! Again. Hysterical laughter burst from the deranged nation. Belarus couldn’t help but wince each time his foot bore down. It snuffed out the last of Prussia.

 

She hissed to the ground, “ _Monster._ ”

 

“Well, I _am_ covered in blood.” He flicked away some droplets.

 

Australia gaped at the tyrant’s revival and appearance. His voice could only croak, “...How?”

 

“Pathetic humans means pathetic nations. Better made humans means better made nations. Easy as that.”

 

“Where do _you_ come off talking like this? You’re only Canada!”

 

The blond man lowered his already soft voice so the two of them had to lean forward to hear it, “I can’t do this because I’m _only_ Canada, eh? You’re just like the rest of them. While I was there right in front of him, while I _planted a knife_ in his gut, _England still_ couldn’t believe it. He begged with me to tell him, who was controlling me--as if I can’t be a vicious, cruel, _independently thinking_   person."

 

He took this moment to walk around his chair and hit against it to emphasize his points. Indigo-purple burned icily at them. Despite the fierceness in his eyes though, his voice contained a quiet level of control.

“I’m always in someone else’s shadow, aren’t I? It’s either I’m relying on Alfred or I’m acting like a ‘mama’s boy’. It is about time I reminded the world that I am something more.”

 

Belarus, although trembling inside, still chose to yell back, “So you took over the world to show us all?”

 

Canada, for the first time they had seen him, broke his smile. “Oh, I didn’t only do it just for something petty like that. Wasting my life over discontent isn't my thing. This was simply an added bonus. Speaking of which...”

He snapped his fingers and several guards rushed in from all sides. Their guns raised.

 

“Already!?”

 

No more weapons. No more luck. Belarus counted to get another plan formed but her entire body felt beyond beaten and sluggish. Australia struggled to stay standing.

 

Canada grimaced, “Even when I control the world, you _s_ _till_ underestimate me.” His eyes glinted as he spoke with the guards. “Take them them to the pit. Set it to slow _._ ”

 

From behind, the two weakened nations felt several hands seize them then stab paralyzing poison into their bodies. Both fell over like chopped down trees. A heavy-built guard slung them over their shoulder.

 

"And the creature, sir?"

 

"Creature? Oh, right...send it in with them."

* * *

 

Copper dressed all the walls, the floor and even the ceiling. It gave the prison a shiny, almost inviting look to it, as if mistakenly made for royalty rather than prisoners. Yet, Belarus noted that something about its texture gleamed oddly and once they had been shoved inside, it became evident as to point of their torture. Every inch of the metal had been roughened to act like sand paper. A tine swipe of your knee across this surface could inflict a deep enough scrape of the skin to reveal the fleshy muscle underneath.

 

A rotor roared to life as the guard went over to a control room elsewhere. With a shudder, the floor began to languidly move forward. Ah. Another catch. All of them hurried to their feet and began to walk in place.

 

On one hand, she should be glad that Canada ordered the setting to start slow. Exhausted from their battle, a jog would kill them. Then again, she wouldn’t be thanking him once this week passed. But that was another matter.

 

“Pezzi…are you-,” she coughed, still suffering bruises which the guards caused moments ago.

 

They looked her way and she winced. The kuma-bot _destroyed_ them.

 

“Not kind bear.” They murmured, as if to partially explain, or partially apologize.

 

“Well...you survived.”

 

From this, the other seemed to cheer up. As it came from a face mutilated several times over, Pezzi's smile still gave Belarus a bitter taste in her mouth. All of them had failed. Moreover Canada proved invincible.

 

Even when Russia achieved his peak, grave wounds still took days to heal, with the fastest recovery being the next morning tops. Then again… not a single nation had come close to such global domination. This empire's foundations weren't just colonies, protectorates, or state absorptions. Brain-washing, to this massive global scale alone had remained the stuff of fiction.

 

Gun shots. Enough blood loss to dye the Niagara Falls. It didn’t add up.

 

 

Could Canada even be defeated?

 

She paused and glanced at Australia. His gaze kept down while his feet dragged with zombie-like languor. She remembered the Canadian’s taunts and how heavily affected he became. The dictator could have been lying…yet it pushed the man to such an edge. Ever since they came here, even came up with this plan, Australia had become hardly himself. Even in dire times, he kept level-headed, perhaps even more so than in times of peace, with his own yearning for dangerous excitement satisfied. Belarus hummed and bit her lip, weighing her own desire to intrude upon his inner thoughts. With a careful crab-step, she marched to his side. He kept his eyes where they were.

"Hey, come on. Talk.”

 

"Nothing to say."

 

“You let him get under your skin and played right into his hands, that is something to say.”

 

“...No, it's _not_."

 

She walked closer to him, "Tell me."

 

He lowered his chin towards the left wall, away from her, "Drop it."

 

"Tell me."

 

"Ask one more time and I promise you that I will push you over onto the sandpaper."

 

His threat rumbled underneath his words, like volcanic lava, only slowly building up to burst. She backed off. This man's character demanded that he keep his word. Belarus trudged to the other side of the room to give him space. She knew her limits but as she bit her tongue, she promised this wouldn't be the end of this conversation.

 

Pezzi soon became the first to tire. How long this had taken, she didn’t know. Perhaps minutes. Perhaps hours. She took on the role to prod him every time she saw him slow down.

 

More time passed and soon sleep began to beckon her as well. She screamed when her eyes began to close. She imagined Canada walking towards her in the state he had been earlier. Her blood boiled enough to allow her to stand for the next session or so.

 

How long till death? She asked herself. The reddened image of the tyrant blurred more and more. She swayed. Death must be nice.

 

Pezzi was dangerously close to the end of the room now. One missed step and they could be caught against the wall. Belarus could no longer poke at him. She waged her own battle inside. No. Sleep. No. Sleep. The mantra repeated like an endless dream, punctuated by a hard step to jolt her leg forward.

 

Their hope arrived when the light above them flickered.

 

At first she thought her vision was blacking out. When she heard the voice coming from above, she figured it was the arms of a dream dragging her in. By the time a basket of food lowered into her hands, she has conceded that she had lost her mind. But, as she jokingly took one of the pastries inside and bit, realization hit her. Her hands shook as she slowly chewed and swallowed. Not only was this food real, but it was something she thought she would never taste again.

 

She turned her head upwards and saw the masked figure waving at her. With newfound energy, she alerted her inmates. They too soon broke out of their own trances.

 

“Who are you?” Belarus asked as she handed the basket over to Australia.

 

They removed their mask and her jaw slackened. Pezzi and Australia stared onward with her.

 

“It has been a while dear sister.” Russia replied.

 

So many thoughts gushed into her mind, all tucked away from those long years of wondering, waiting, hoping, longing for at least any news on this man. She had expected tears to come streaming down, or maybe a scream to leap out, or for her to do  _something_. All her words vanished. Like when she discovered that painting of her sister, she lost her grip with herself.

 

“You work for him?” Australia accused as he appeared by her side in a short burst of energy. It broke her shock and her lungs flooded with air. He glared above, mustering what he could.

 

“Not anymore. No time to talk about that here. Take this."

 

She took the rubber pieces and examined them. They appeared to be…pants without holes?

 

“Put those on over you shoes. It will prevent the sandpaper from eating away at your soles when you stop walking. They can stretch over the body so you use them like protective sleeping bags when you're tired. Keep your hair tucked in though.”

 

She handed out the foreign things over and tested it herself. The fabric snapped over tight but still remained comfortable. As her feet stopped, she glided over the sandpaper like it was nothing. Australia stared at his.

 

“What’s…the point?”

 

“Pardon?” Her brother called above.

 

“I said, what’s the point? Why come to our aid _now_ of all times? Canada’s invincible. What can we even do anymore?”

 

Belarus reached out to pat his shoulder, “Let us just survive here.”

 

He grunted and put them on. It took the two of them to help out Pezzi. Once protected by the fabric, the mock-nation took the opportunity to fall over and sleep. She smiled. Belarus looked back up to the opening above them.

 

“When do you plan to get us out of here?”

 

“…” Russia glanced around and put his mask back on, “As soon as possible.” His gaze bore at Australia until he looked up again too, “Canada is not invincible. Do not lose hope.” And with that the man was gone. Belarus bit her lip, knowing that there would be more to that plan. Inside her an uncanny fear grew

 

 


	15. Yes, Sire Cheshire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I really want to finish all stories that I start.
> 
> Just a head's up in case anyone gets confused. There's a little short story before the main fic resumes. It was meant to be part of another standalone fic related to this A.U but since I'm no longer writing that might as well use it here. It is a metaphorical re-telling of the two Canada's meeting, rather than a literal one.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

 

* * *

_The King of Hearts desired no queen. He tired of songs and parties, and possessed no drive for war. Rumours spread like pestilence, yet even then he merely shrugged the matters away. To his subjects, he hardly suited the role of a king so scorn grew._

_Seeing no place for himself in court, he cast away his throne (the crown unable to leave him), and escaped to the forest to take the identity of a woodsman. In solitude, he found his peace._

_Then one day, after a misstep in his route, he discovered a pool. It shone clear, like a looking glass, and it was surrounded by smoothed stones. A mystical air hovered over it. The siren call of curiosity tugged him near. With only slight hesitance, he approached it._

_He peered into it and saw himself...yet it was not himself. It was someone much softer, kinder...more beautiful than he ever was. They made eye-contact. He blinked. His reflection shrieked and fled._

_The king spent many days visiting this pool in hopes to catch a glimpse of the kinder version of himself again. Call it curiosity turned obsession. Call it love at first sight. Call it narcissism. Nevertheless, he yearned more and more to see that gentle face again._

_At last, when he was on the verge of giving up, the reflection returned. This time, shy as ever, but no longer scared. He spoke first._

_They felt comfortable with each other, as they were identical in likeness, yet it was their differences that attracted them. After many weeks of discussion, the reflection dropped a question. Their words were heavy grey clouds, and the King of Hearts watched helplessly as the clear reflective pool shivered from tears. Thinking only with empathy, the King reached out and discovered that he could touch his reflection. He wiped away the tears._

_They learned plenty after that._

_Among their acquired knowledge, they learned that there existed a small barrier of space until objects fully passed from one world to the next. In this formless dimension, anything they wished immediately existed. With this, they could alter time and reality, subdue historical events to their whims._

_The King of Hearts, who held no subtlety that would aid him in court, thought he could help his kingdom this way. Without shame, he could return. He thought he could bring his land fortune by fixing the problems of the past before they began. His reflection smiled wide; their grins stretched from sea to sea._

_However, there is something that the King did not know until it was too late. His softer reflection was not another King of Hearts. The reflection was a "Cheshire Cat"._

* * *

Gloating. She had expected it to come bearing down on them at some point. Or that someone would come to check up on them, then whisk away her brother's gifts. She anticipated further misery.

Rather, she _hoped_ for it, for _any_ sort of action really. Instead she was stuck with sleeping noises and her other depressingly silent companion. Pezzi's form remained the same black blob floating in the middle of the room, for...a while? She guessed an hour. Their snores calmed her nerves a little. Her other companion on the other hand...she kept a reluctant distance apart. Both kept up their stagnant states which furthered her yearning.

It was odd, almost ironic, she thought. The Belarus, the Natalya who waited for five futile years, had forgotten how to wait. She itched for action, needing the adrenaline in order to breathe. She rubbed at her arms compulsively in an attempt to sooth herself.

Her over-alert eyes anchored themselves back to the quiet Australia. The man looked outright drained, a husk of defeat. She winced as her mind ran through her options, but there was really nothing else to do. As she neared and opened her mouth…the word cracked when it shouldn't...

"Hey…"

"..."

 _Grrreat start,_ she chided herself. Still, it was less painful than silence and a _slightly_ better pastime than hitting her head against the wall. She coughed in another attempt to get his attention.

… More silence. Then more. And even wonderfully more.

Okay...so _now_ it felt around as good as hitting her head against a wall. Time to switch her approach.

"...Fine. I will do the talking."

A twitch.

"You should know that I do not blame you for losing control. That would make me a hypocrite. What I want to discuss is that...I can...uh... to...support...no...console...er..." She flinched at every word. Nope. Nope. This was _much_ worse than hitting her head against the wall. She should really move on to that now.

Australia sighed, "Stop pushin' yourself."

"You want to talk?" She sounded more grateful than she ought to have been.

"Look. You don't need to give me a touching spiel about relatin' to me and that you're here for me in my sufferin' and shock. I know that. What do you take me for?"

She crossed her arms and grimaced. He took on a quiet smile.

"Don't worry, I got my head. Honest."

' _For Now',_ she added mentally. After a few more moment of absorbing and analyzing the genuine nature of that smile, her arms dropped and she returned it with a half-smile. After a while, a familiar cocky grin cracked through.

"Save your efforts for helpin' me dodge bullets. We both know you like that better." He laughed and she reveled in the calming effect of that sound.

"...You have not been like this since we planned this assassination. It unnerved me to work beside a stranger."

"A stranger, huh? So, what am I normally like?"

"Stubborn. Annoying. Unrefined. Loud-"

 _"_ _HEY!"_

"-Way too sincere. Charismatic. Determined. Respectable."

He grabbed onto her arm and drew her closer to him, "No good. You listed one more flaw over compliments." He draped his arm over her shoulder, giving her an expectant grin. She shook her head and proceeded to give his hair an aggressive ruffle until he released her.

"Add messy and cocky to the list then."

"Still not compli-Ow!" He hissed at the end of his sentence.

Something wet had dripped onto his hand. Belarus looked up, only to be shocked to see the newly tightened lid above. She yanked Australia's hand towards her to examine it. The skin had reddened from the droplet. Acid.

Upon instinct, both of them balled up on the ground. The drops increased and collected onto the floor. The fabric thankfully also provided protection against the corrosive rain. But with the way the place was filling up, it would soon not be enough. Acid.

"What is going on up there? Brother should be back already." She muttered.

"Maybe we're supposed to be dead and this pit's scheduled to clear the corpses?" He shifted in his protective gear, "...Your brother really should've given us full suits, not stretchy pants."

"Hm. We have plenty of time. The acid is not yet pouring."

"You really trust your brother then."

A rumble interrupted her before she could retort. The scraping floor and walls ceased moving, and instead trembled slightly something had jammed the gears. The lid pulled away. Several minutes later, an I.C.U peered down.

_Identities confirmed._

Unsure of what it wanted, they both stayed frozen, suspicious. A red beam burst out of the machine's eye and slowly the group floated up above the ground.

Pezzi grumbled and turned over in mid-air, unaware of their predicament. Australia and Belarus fidgeted against the anti-gravity as they were uncomfortable without their solid ground to stand on. The robot continued to keep them up in the air even as they were completely taken out of the pit. To her surprise, no guards were watching over them.

_Extraction Complete. Commence Delivery Phase_

_"_ To who?" Belarus demanded.

_Ivan Braginsky._

Australia raised an eyebrow, "Your brother can control the I.C.U's?"

She frowned...that didn't make sense. When the I.C.U continued to carry them into another hallway, her stomach dropped. Thousands upon thousands of ALC'S engulfed the walls, creating the illusion of shivering scales. Her lungs proceeded to panic, tracing her back to that old memory.

A stab of warmth took her hand. He smiled weakly and she closed her eyes to stomach passing the arachnid reapers. To her relief, the insect tunnel was short and painless, if you exclude her terrible trembling. It would remain a future question to ask though.

As they floated past every corner, the tension dragged on, like dying twitching roadkill wheezing its last but incapable of giving up. Stubborn things, really. Natalya tried deep breathing, counting, staring over to her equally wary companion again. Okay, the panic was gone, yet the fear remained.

Their deliverer kept locked to their route, beeping on occasion. Never did this group believe that they were alone, so they could never believe their safety. The red gleam of their anti-gravity bubble screamed to betray them within its glow off of the metal hallway walls. The voices of other empire workers surrounded them, some so chokingly near that she saw shadows that weren't there.

Yet, like the ghosts that they feared they would become, the group slipped re-capture with no problems. At long last, they halted at an automatic door. The I.C.U droid validated itself at the scanner. Air leaked out as the door opened up. The robot dashed forward and the door re-locked itself.

Relief welcomed them as Russia's face smiled. Another cyphered command followed and the group landed softly on the ground. Then, after a darting glance to a certain pair of clasped hands, Belarus yanked herself away before her brother could comment. He gestured them to follow him deeper into the room.

"Answers, Now." Belarus demanded, gathering more courage than from their last encounter. She hoped to sound intimidating and infuriated. She felt like a spoiled pouting child.

"I have a way to kill the Great Rat Leader."

"I hope it doesn't involve guns, knives or your hands, mate. Tried it. Failed."

Belarus nodded and added, "Interfering with the regeneration process is the problem."

After a few more steps, they reached a large set of screens which were brick layered from the top of the wall straight to the tiled floor. The large man pointed to a group of four upwards, nearer to the right.

In one, the Great Leader hummed some happy drivel while he organized his papers. In another, she saw the insect tunnel again and involuntarily shivered. The last two were watching to passageways carved underground.

"Well...even _he_ cannot regenerate, when there's nothing left to regenerate," Russia remarked.

"Enough riddles. Start from the beginning, " Belarus said as returned to face him; her voice thankfully sounded stronger.

The other took in a heavy breath, "It all started when the Rat discovered the Mirror universe…"

Out of all things, even with her own knowledge, Belarus hadn't expected her brother's tale*.

The simple version: Canada had discovered a magical mirror where he encountered his doppelgänger, which turned into the catalyst for disasters, as if certain universal rules had been violated.

The first contact had been innocent, naive, sweet even, but that was only the syrup that hid the toxin. There was power, too much, in their discoveries. With that, an untamed imagination flourished, which gave birth to a course of action to counter past stagnancy. The dream was to fill in the gaps of their own weaknesses with each other's strengths. Canada did not understand its price.

"He wants to merge the universes." Russia continued. "When he discovered of the other universes technology, he thought it was a matter blending the best of worlds."

"So he is the cause of 'The Disaster'...Hm... Then, whatever he did ended up switching our universes."

Russia nodded, "During the days that followed, we were all more concerned about adjusting to our situations...we never noticed him."

"Can we ever revert this damage?"

"No."

Granted, they had already well-adjusted to this world, barely remembering their own, yet that confirmation still had the effect of a waterfall of cascading bricks. Her first thought went to the few who went missing during the swap. Mercy unto them, she figured.

Bile bit into her tongue by reflex. No. Despite its effect as significant as adding another skull to the already massive pile, that sort of fate was still atrocious. Hell, those nations no longer existed to even have skulls. She swallowed.

Speaking of those lost... that left one more haunting question...

"So what happened…you said you would be back..." Her voice trailed off. Do not run away, she urged herself, while also silently pleading the same underneath her words.

"I got captured and the Great Rat forced me into his services. He made me head of the Department of Morality, knowing that it suited my skills and that I would only sabotage his Weapon's Department." His voice dripped with virile disgust. His hand reached out to her but he held back last minute to instead drop his head. "I did not want to, dear sister. If I could have, then I would have tried a thousand times over to escape."

 _But you didn't!_ The young woman glared, bit her tongue and turned away from his apologetic face. Fists shivered on both of her sides. Bloodlust boiled within her as she thought back to how she played a patient and obedient doll. Her stay inside that shelter was all for nothing.

Australia asked, in her place, "Why did you stay?"

He gave a bitter smile, "For Alfred's sake, I stood by his side, as mad as it was..."

She swallowed down the news languidly, like unwanted medicine. _Of course_ , her mind agreed indifferently. Some part of her had always seen the signs that she chose to ignore. _Of course_ , her heart echoed back. _He left her...left her...left her..for another..._

Breathe.

At least, he was... alive and confessed his betrayal truthfully. It left her one less grave marker to attend. That mattered more, right? The young woman released a long shaky breath. Yeah, it did.

"Did America turn?" Australia continued.

Russia walked over to a nearby chair and sat down, as if explaining this one bit, in the face of the weight of the information that he had already told him, was more than he could bear.

"His brother...his family...the effects upon his own land and people...it was all too much for him to bear. When we were captured, he was easily brainwashed. Yet, even in that cracked state Alfred concocted a brilliant counter-measure plan."

"A plan?"

"The Negative Mushroom Plan." He gestured them to follow him to a table. He pulled out a sealed plastic disk, about the size of a hockey puck and placed it on the surface. Inside, miniscule silver slivers danced around. "He developed these to kill any nation on contact."

"What are they?" She whispered.

"These are microscopic cybernetic spores which are designed to disintegrate the cells of any target carrying personification DNA. They're small enough to directly attach themselves to blood vessels and even manipulate the immune system. For every cell we re-generate, it destroys ten more. All you have to do is breathe or expose it to your wounds..."

"And they eat you from the inside out," Australia finished in terrified awe. "Piranhas in the air, specially targeted towards our kind."

"Exactly."

All of them shivered from being even near the bots.

"How are you planning to release these?"

Russia peered to the ceiling and gave it a small hand gesture; an A.L.C crawled out. Belarus gave an uncontrolled yelp. Though her brother raised an eyebrow, he pushed no further. The spider-like bot dropped into his palm and crawled around in a circle.

"Alfred incorporated the spores into every A.L.C that he's ever created. I simply decide when it's time to trigger them. The entire building has been outfitted with air-tight locks so they can be contained. Once they run out of cells from their target, they deactivate and self-destruct." He pointed back to the screens, "I have already prepared your escape route."

The young woman hummed as she took it all in. Something jutted out oddly."...But you said America was brainwashed...how did he…"

The large man gave another whispered laugh, "Before we were taken, he ingrained the details of his own plan within his brain, far away from his brother's reaches. He remains unaware that he's been following them."

Belarus narrowed her eyes, "Is this the _same_ America that rode an ironing board down the stairs 'for the Vine' ?"

Ivan chuckled, "He might have received some aid from outer-space with this step."

His eyes then glazed over as if focused to another time. Grumbles pulled away her attention-her throat tightened less-to the entrance of the room. Pezzi had awoken. As they slowly pulled themselves up, as they mumbled chopped questions.

Upon sight of Russia, Pezzi widened their eyes, "Voices. Ask. Russia...You Alive?"

"Ivan." The man corrected, "Call me Ivan. I betrayed my nationhood years ago." He whipped around to Australia, "On another note, you should know that your sibling lives."

The Australian looked at Ivan with a devastated look, as he was forced to return back to this subject but unable to let it go, and pleaded. "Do you know what happened to them? What's goin' on back... ho-there?"

"I can pull up their records and-"

"OH _here_ you are~" A cheery voice chirped from a now unsealed doorway. The airlock on the door hissed as it leaked out from the damage caused by the new arrival.

She looked over, fearing indigo eyes, blond hair, and an ensuing violent battle. Unfettered by their glares, the other man stepped forward. He hummed and smiled until he stood a meter or so away from them. It wasn't the Great Leader...but it was still someone who could hurt hundreds while smiling and singing, at least in the state he was now.

"You two are far too wound up." This person noted as the grouped bent into offensive stances, "Worry not. I haven't called anyone over...yet."

Belarus called out, "Then, what do you want?"

Spain tilted his head, as if surprised she didn't know, "To convince you to stop. To come back home."

"Home?" She croaked as she subdued the bitter laughter that stirred in her stomach. She had rejected that world with all its wishful paintings, where instead of trivia books, like in her shelter, people waited on shelves. "You imprisoned me."

"Your sister absolutely misses you."

"My sister rests in her grave."

Merlot grief flashed over the other's face in response, like a shadow of red set upon a murderer's face before committing their felony. Had she not seen it so often, she would have flinched. A blanc smile washed it out as the other noticed her lack of fright. The man inched forward.

Three likely possibilities wandered around in her mind, based on this look. One: Spain had a weapon, possibly one of those turtles that had anesthetized her before. Two: Spain would trigger an alarm, having failed at convincing her. Three: Spain would further insist her to surrender freely and appease the coward within herself.

The wide walls of the room felt as if they were closing in, like a mimic to the wary narrowing of each other's eyes. Both bided their time. Which move to make? Flinch first to retaliate faster? Or aim to win this game of chicken?

Spain opened his arms out, and opened his mouth, no weapon, no alarm, just words. She rolled her eyes, to hide the feeling of her gut dropping; Possibility three. She hated possibility three. With the deluded man first to serve, a tennis court of debate was set-up.

_Slice (serve)._

"You kill off the tyrant and then what? You expect the scorched lands to magically revive? That no human ruler will take his place? You're naive."

_Blocked (return)._

She smirked, "So the only logical option is to surround yourself by happy delusions?"

_Backhand (swing)._

"No more than what you've done, except _I_ refuse to exterminate the masses."

_Brutalizer (attack)._

"You stab them all with your lethargy and feigned ignorance!"

_Drive Volley (attack)._

"Inaction is neither better nor worse than action. It's another decision."

_Jamming (attack)._

"Cowardly!"

_Forehand (swing)_

"Murderous otherwise! He may be a tyrant king but it is order!"

_Stop shot (net-close attack)._

"You are ruled by a Cheshire Cat who manipulates his subjects to follow his whimsical chaos."

Spain didn't bother diving to try and defend that. Agitated silence took over as their impasse became evident. He shrugged. Instead of yielding, the man turned his attention to a gaping Pezzi who had just begun to stare at him.

"Does your pet monster have a problem with me?" The man remarked, in a flat tone, with the chipper voice facade chipped away.

"Pezzi." The mock-nation interjected before Belarus replied. "Name is Pezzi."

As if scalded by the utterance, the other jumped back. "You gave it an Italian name?"

" _They_ chose it." She corrected. "Long story short, humans captured some fellow nations and combined their minds into one body."

"Voice says...you look stupidly cheery as usual. Some are glad. Asking what happened?"

"These," Spain dug into his inner pockets and revealed a handful of glass turtles, "have freed me.

Ivan burst forward, "Put. Those. Down."

"So you know of their power, Deserter." And with that he threw them on the ground. When these broke, a green smoke flooded from them, which soon consumed the air overhead and crept towards them. She felt the soft numbing feeling of their hold return; Her wasteland memories dissipated into the murkiness of their enchanting fog. Her fuzzy focus could only watch as her fellow nations collapsed as well.

Warm.

Coddling and smothering perhaps, but who could disagree with peace?The world from this sideways angle seemed so wonderful! Someone else was laughing slightly and she joined in. There was another person fidgeting, mumbling some incoherent pleas...but soon they also relaxed. It felt like the awe that came with snow as it fell, not as it had fallen. Yet another-

-No.

What was stomping at her?

What was this coldness approaching her?

Her blood shrieked as the mock-nation came into her vision. Pezzi was evidence of a wasteland that does not, does not, does not, does. not. exist. No. NO. With a rough shove, she fled from those helping hands, falling back as his weight was no match for hers.

Realizing the source of their intoxicated states, Pezzi raised their head towards the cackling brunet. Through her haze, Belarus could hear them shout demands but could not discern the words. They grew more aggressive, each punctuated with another harsh, wince-inducing step.

Then, the mock-nation attacked first. Without even flinching, Spain met him with a large stun gun. Though it hindered Pezzi for a few seconds, they were, by no means, done. Again, they lunged forward with intention to immobilize him with their weight. Bzzzzzt! Their target dodged by using that small electric charge as a distraction and tumbling forward.

"Spain. Why?" Belarus could hear him ask. Though, to her mind, it seemed more like distorted howls than words. She shuddered.

"Monster. You do not know me."

Pezzi's eye twitched and then shook his head furiously for a moment. Another second later, the mock-nation crossed their arms, and straightened their back, like another spirit had settled into the body. "Oi, tomato bastard, yeah I do."

The other gaped. He knew that tone of voice better than most.

"Dammit. Stop running to the past."

At this, his opponent spat on the ground.

"Pezzi, you're grasping at straws. You understand nothing about me. What your group intends to do is bring further chaos to this world. What about his own citizens? They know nothing of this toxic world, yet you wish to steal away their Utopia. No one would give that up without force. What about the Gang Tribes, the raiders, the Tattoo Bands? They will flourish without the might of the empire to keep the districts safe, even the Domes risk takeover." He huffed, "You almost got me there. No sane nation could possibly tell me to join that waste-"

"IDIOT! You're the one who's insane! You've _joined_ Canada! You _chose_!"

"Everyone I care about is dead, brainwashed or has never existed. This is for normalcy. What do you have to offer me? A fake voice created from recorded screams?"

"But weren't you the one opposed to delusions the most? Is that not why you went to England's lands to search for something? I'm telling you-"

Bam! Spain punched their face. Surprisingly enough, the mock-nation actually went down to one knee from the sheer force behind it. Those green eyes bore down, both tauntingly but mostly entombed by weighted suffering.

"Tell me nothing until you've felt my pain."

Pezzi cracked their jaw back to place and the tone of voice reverted back to normal, but no less fluent, "Pain?" Their glare hissed back. "We have that in spades."

A whipped crack threw the other onto the ground. The brunet's breath became uneven, hysteric and his body trembled as full of everything to say, but unable to speak them. Spain threw down the last of his turtles with a full gaze locked with Pezzi. Soon, Belarus blacked out.

...

"Wake...up..."

Light slapping alternated on her face until she fluttered her eyes open. The call to wake was repeated. A dull throb rested on the back of her head and she rubbed at it. She dug at her memory.

"Pezzi?" She asked the unfocused blob in front of her. Her eyes took their sweet time to refocus. She blinked and sat up. Belarus could recall that Pezzi had been talking in full sentences. Weird was her first thought. Unsure of her own memory, She waited for a response.

"...They seem to have fought Spain to break the effect of those turtles."

"Fought? So they won?" Her hands rubbed at her eyes. Ah, it's Australia in front of her.

Another voice from her side replied instead, "...Both are dead, sister."

She noticed her brother's eyes trail off to side so she immediately looked in the opposite direction. Her mind refused to take it in too deeply. Enough nation corpse count, it cried.

Instead, she asked, "Those turtles, w-what are they?"

"Remember I had told you that the other universe came contact with us through supernatural means. Of course, that meant it could be broken the same way, which England tried."

"You're kidding." A flat panned stare told Ivan that they would take no bullshit.

"Yes, he and a few others had powers like this. Anyways, England attempted to exorcise them out of this realm, or at the very least anchor the other realm's interactions here. The man came close, and, had it not been for his murder, we would be rid of them all. Spain uncovered the stones he used and molded them into these new forms. In short, those turtles possess souls."

Australia nodded, "Otherwise, the other 'Canada' would be doin' what the other 'Belarus' was doin' to help us out."

"Exactly."

"But then that means we could have done something at the beginning!"

Ivan lowered his head and shook it, "That man instead chose to shoulder partial blame for the Disaster...and he trusted the Rat." Ivan all but spat on the ground, "Foolish Great Leader believes he was underestimated...but that was never the case. He mistakened _trust_ placed on him, as _mockery_."

This foolishness did not surprise her, "So, did Spain learn how to cast the spell on other objects? The amount that he had seems too uncanny to be all created from England's stones."

Her brother shrugged, "I'm not quite sure. According to my sources, even The Great Rat finds him mad, so we cannot assume anything about him."

Australia sighed, muttered under his breath and looked at Ivan, "What now then?

"You must get of here. The spores' accuracy has not been tested...so they might attack every nation in the vicinity. There's a hidden entrance way to go to the escape routes that I showed you earlier...and...Oh, right. I was pulling up records on your sibling. You still want to see those, yes?"

The other took in a deep breath then finally gathered up the strength to nod. An image began to load on a display, near the far bottom left. The world moved in slow-motion as Belarus watched his reaction. He nearly collapsed to his knees. Anything she had managed to infuse back into him at the pit, burst right back out.

"Notably not dead," Ivan attempted to reassure. "The Great Rat likes to use this imagery to scare off other nations. With what is reported of rebels over here, your sibling might be better off than imagined."

"The eyes? The legs?"

"They could heal. The damage was caused indirectly via repeated chemical attacks on citiz..." Her brother clamped up.

One glance at the nation could tell anyone, words would not help. Australia mumbled to excuse himself for a moment, then fled from the room, probably faster than he intended.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading.
> 
> *A few more details about Canada's story can be found in Mad Alongside You's second-last chapter.


End file.
